


Call me, or else <3

by Seiteki9



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dating, Fluff and Smut, Get on the bus riiide, I want my boys to be happy, Kee and Allie, Low Self-Esteem, M/M, Pining, Possible Hance, Possible Mallura, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Sex, Revenge Blowjob, Teacher Shiro, naughty keith, some angst-isssh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiteki9/pseuds/Seiteki9
Summary: There's no such thing as the perfect meeting.Especially not in the middle of a panic attack, while riding a bus full a strangers.





	1. Chapter 1

Shiro flips through his agenda, revising his schedule for the umpteenth time, rereading details he had written days ago, underlined, wrote over in red, in blue… It was how he coped, how he dealt with his stress. However, he would not have HAD to deal with it if he had just not taken the bus that day. A 3 hours bus ride was far from relaxing, but promising to lend his car to his friend for an important interview reminded him how his own comfort could be set aside for a couple of hours. He could go through with it, he would be fine. Everything was in order, he had not forgotten anything, had taken his medication. He would be home before 9.

Sitting down at the back of the vehicle, he dropped his small briefcase at his feet and hung his coat on the side of his seat. Leaning back in the hard seat, he gritted his teeth. The hard frame dug in his back, fueling both his stress and his discomfort. This bus was too old for long distances, but apparently, it was not a good enough reason for the transport company to, at least, stuff the seats properly for their clientele. It irritated him to no end how inconsiderate people could be, but he was stoic, so his expression remained calm. He raised his eyes when a passenger stumbled in at the last second and watched the young man, probably a teenager, talk to the driver, bringing his eyes back down after a short moment.

Ignoring people around him was an easy thing to do, so he leaned to his left, against the window and watched the snowflakes fall softly to the ground. At least the weather was not too bad, they should not be delayed. The flakes sticking to the window made him think of Christmas and how he would have to travel back to Florida to see his grand-parents. He wondered if he had it in him to take the plane, or if he should take a few more days off and drive down. Both were valid choices and equally strained him.

He closed his eyes, emptying his mind. Deep breaths Takashi, you are fine.

The bus jerked backwards suddenly and they departed quickly. It bobbed left and right on the uneven ground of the parking lot. He took another deep breath, ignoring the sound of a passenger throwing up within seconds of their departure. When he realized they had slowed down and stopped, right as they were exiting the premises, he sighed, looking up.

The last passenger that had come in was still talking to the driver, an argumentation? He lifted his left arm, pointing in the direction of the only remaining empty seat. The driver shook his head and frowned when the young man almost yelled.

\- I CAN’T wait!

His voice was deeper than Shiro had imagined. He looked young with his red leather jacket and tousled dark hair. He watched as the two men’s heated argument died down. They kept talking for a while, the driver shook his head and waved him off. The young man smiled and nodded, he turned around and walked towards the back of the bus. Shiro huffed, leaning his jaw against the back of his hand, his eyes shifting back to the state of the weather outside of the vehicle. He did not think much about the noise around him and barely lifted his gaze when a small black bag was pushed inside the compartment above his head.

Maybe he should sleep a bit, or read. He had plenty of essays to revise, might as well make use of this waste of his precious time, so he went to work. Within 30 minutes, he was so angry by the lack of diligence half of his students had put into their texts, he shoved everything back into his case, taking out a book. He was not in the right mood for this; he might as well just give up.

He cracked his jaw, rolling his shoulders, feeling the stiffness in his right arm like a plague. He really wished he could be in the warmth of his home. At least he had been able to get a single seat, he was not sure how he would have handled being sandwiched between a stranger and the window for so long, especially not today. He felt a headache creeping from the back of his head to his left temple.

Urgh…

That was when it happened all at once, while he was thinking about taking pills for the pain. He knew that the roads were uneven during the winter, but never so much that he had to grab hold of his seat this tightly as the vehicle rocked dangerously close to the side of the road. Dropping his book to the ground like discarded trash, he grabbed on for dear life, terror creeping up his back. There were some surprised screams around him and a child started crying. The biggest shock, however, was when a body was thrown unto his lap. He barely recognized the red leather, lifting up his left hand to catch the head of the stranger before it crashed against the window. His knuckles, however did, the searing pain reverberated through his fingers as he grabbed a fist full of hair.

His gasped of pain sounded at the same time as the shriek of the man who had landed on his knees.

The bus swerved dangerously, the yells of the other passengers resonating through the cabin. His right arm shot forward, grabbing the small man by the waist and holding him close, in horror.

_Fire… so much fire… and then, the crash, the crunching of metal. His right arm bending at an unnatural angle and torn out like a doll’s. The sound of the wind howling, the helicopter’s engine hollering. He could see the blades turning slowly as his friend’s eyes stared right back at him, unseeing. The wind... and the rain... the cracking... and the crackling of the fire... crackle... crackle... snap... and CRACK!_

They stilled within moments, as the driver got control of the vehicle back. Luckily, there was not much snow or ice on the ground.

He barely heard the intercom’s static, clinching at the stranger’s body like a lifeline.

\- Sorry for this. We caught a pothole… seems like we are fine. Anybody injured?

The child was still crying, but everybody seemed to be okay. Shiro swallowed, panting, his eyes opened wide, his irises shrunk to tiny, almost invisible, dots, he could barely see. He was stuck in a tunnel, clinging to his sanity.

_The blades turn…, turn…, and turn… Yowl… and screech… the wind, laughter… the blades they turn… turn… and turn… crac and burn... and boom and burn... crackle... crackle... do you see it Shiro? Death's door... death door, it's opening for you... CRACK AND CRACK AND BURN AND BOOM_ _AND BURN AND DIE... HE'S DEAD... HE DIED PILOT ERROR PILOT ERROR PILOT ERROR PILOT ERROR PILOT ERROR PILOT ERROR PILO TERROR PI LOTER ROR_ _P ILO TER ROR PILO TERRORRRR PILOTTT ERRRRROOOR PILOT ERROR PILOTERROR PILOTERROR PILOTERRORPILOTERRORPILOTERROR_

_**P I L O T E R R O R** _

\- Hey. You okay?

He gasped loudly, his head being pulling out of the deep waters of his broken mind.

The voice was low and soft in his ear, lips brushing against his jaw softly. A gentle hand was resting on his right arm, the other squeezed between the thin body in his arms and his chest. He turned his head sharply and immediately lost himself in a pair of deep, dark, violet eyes. He stared.

Dark violet, like the night’s sky. Somehow, that grounded him. It was not his friend, his friend had light brown eyes. This was someone different. Where was he? He blinked the fog away and straightened up. The man sitting on his lap looked up at him, concern etched on his fine features. He had large, almond shaped eyes, defined eyebrows and a face carved in glass. If his skin had been shining, Shiro would not have been surprised.

Attractive. He was… INCREDIBLY attractive.

Shiro could feel how small his waist was, compared to his own sturdier frame. His limbs were long, toned, his neck slender, and the dip of his clavicle barely showing above the collar of a black shirt. If only he could BITE on the flesh… Oh boy would he, wholeheartedly.

The man arched a perfect eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

\- Hi. You back?

Shiro opened his mouth, his throat still frozen in the fear he had just experienced. The replay of the horror died a little more at the back of his mind.

\- Ye-es.

His voice sounded more like a croak. He twisted away in shame, coughing, and then back.

\- I’m sorry. Yes.

\- Mind letting go of my hair?

He realized then how tight his grip had been. He forced his fingers to unfold, the joints stinging from the abuse. He grimaced.

The young man chuckled, straightening on his lap. He cracked his neck and unlodged his arm from Shiro’s body, resting a second hand on his right arm. Shiro felt himself stiffen, suddenly despising the state of his own body, his scars, his prosthetic arm, his need for medication just to fight off PTSD. Oh god, he needed a glass of wine right now.

He muffled an apology, unsure of what to do.

\- Thanks for the save. Almost got a breath of fresh hair through a closed window. THAT would not have been fun. Even though I hadn’t counted on having my hair pulled this way instead, not that I'm complaining... but will you be okay? You panicked there.

The attractive teen (He  **must** have been a teen, he looked so young and perfect.) patted his fake arm, smiling gently at him. Shiro heard the sound of metal against metal when the dark rings around the young man’s fingers hit against the outer shell of his arm. At that instant, he regretted taking off his coat. He barely stopped himself from jerking his arm away, mortification clouding his face. He looked away.

To his surprise, the man’s hand did not move away, his fingers actually curled around the arm, squeezing softly.

\- Hey… it’s fine. You’re fine. Come on, look at me. Seriously, don’t make me grab your face.

Shiro hesitated and turned back around, his cheeks colored slightly, shadowing the large scar on his nose. He wished he could dig a hole and hide in it. His mental state was so deplorable, he understood why they had carted him off to a far away military flight school.

The man grinned.

\- Finally. I think you can let go now. I'll make sure I don’t fall again. I swear if I had intended to sit on your lap, I would have asked. I hope I didn’t hurt you buddy.

Buddy? Shiro blinked, but did not move his arm, keeping his grip locked around the young man’s waist.

\- Why aren’t you sitting down? There’s an empty seat in the front.

\- The guy next to it threw up on it.

The man’s nose wrinkled in disgust. He brought a hand up, rubbing it like he could still smell the putrid odor of nausea.

\- Oh. I’m sorry. But… it’s not safe, standing in a long distance bus. You could hurt yourself. I don’t understand why the driver let you on, he could get a serious fine.

The young man rolled his eyes, pouting lightly. It was so endearing, Shiro felt his own lips part in the need to BITE DOWN on the pink flesh of that bottom lip. A shuddering breath passed his own and he licked them, his eyes flicking away for half a second.

“ _Shiro… you need to calm down. Hell, he looks half your age, hold off the boner. Have some decency”,_ he admonished himself. He needed some kind of slap, a kick in the ass maybe, because this guy was doing things to him without even trying.

\- What are you? The police? Who cares, I paid for my ride and I’m busy. I can’t just get off like a good boy because some guy was sick on MY seat. Besides, you caught me. I’m fine. So can I stand now?

\- Don’t you want to stay seated?

The man frowned at his question. Shiro marveled at all the expressions he portrayed within this short conversation, this guy was extremely expressive. It was so easy to guess what he was feeling; it was both adorable and comforting. He wished everybody was like this, since he could not stand the fake pity, the forced kindness and the hidden horror most people tried to keep from him. Most people either thought he was made of glass or he was an idiot. It was disheartening.

\- I do but… I can’t MAKE a seat out of nothing. Or… are you ASKING me to stay on your lap stranger? Feeling lonely? Orrr... maybe you're a creep.

His answer would have seemed rude to anybody, if not for the smile brightening his young face, a cocky, sexy, corner smile. Shiro’s hand twitched against the fabric of his shirt, his arm still tightly around his waist.

A creep... was he? He did not know.

As for lonely, it was not the right word, not withstanding the fact that he had not really thought about what he meant when he had asked. What DID he mean? Did he mean to give up his seat? His mind had just gone trough the wringer in the span of 5 seconds, he was certain he would be unable to stand for the next two hours, no matter how noble his intentions are. Soooo... probably not.

\- I… well… err...

He sighed, what was he supposed to answer? He did not know, felt confused, but the warmth of this young man had brought him back from the deep. The notion of having panic attacks in public made him shudder, he felt indebted. Was he trying to repay the man? Maybe. Did it feel like it? As the seconds ticked by, less and less.

\- Pff… unless you want to stand for the next two hours. I guess I am… asking you... if you want to stay... on my lap.

The young man’s expression turned to one of surprise, then his eyebrows knotted together in deep thought. He tilted his head slightly to the side, analysing Shiro’s expression. His scrutiny made Shiro's cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson. Oh god… he should just let go.

\- Alright.

The positive answer came as a surprise before he could even release his grip.

\- What?

The young man chuckled.

\- I said: “Alright”. As in YES, I'll take you in on your offer. You're kind of comfortable actually.

He wiggled his legs slowly a little bit like an excited child, his grin widening on his young face. Feeling both dumb and self conscious, Shiro let go of the man's waist, resting his prosthetic on the arm of his seat. He grabbed unto it, as if to make sure he would not hold the young man again.

\- Can I ask... how old you are?

The boy laughed some more, seeming that much younger. It made the older man feel bad, really bad, worse than at first. Oh god, he was a teenager. He had to be and Shiro had just offered him to sit on his lap for the next two hours.

\- What age do you think I am old man?

\- Old ma...! Wait! How OLD do you think I AM?! I'm just thirty!

His mouth remained open in outrage as the young man just laughed some more, putting a hand in front of his mouth. His eyes crinkled at the corners in clear mirth. Shiro ripped his gaze from him, looking around and noticing how some the neighboring passengers were starting to look at them in annoyance. People had noticed, he was done, his career dead, policemen would get him and he'd go to prison for being kind to a stranger.

It played perfectly in his mind too:  _“What do you have to say for yourself Mister Shirogane?” “I was just trying to be kind officer!” “Did you except any service in return.” “What? No! Never” “That's not what the other passengers say.”_

Fuck.

He was so done.

Maybe if he pushed him off, it would all go away.

The boy laughed some more, flicking his forelock playfully.

\- Must be the white hair, but don't worry.

Perky, he patted Shiro's cheek, his soft fingers sliding against his jaw before letting go. The gesture, made the older man's eyes widen that much more, panic rising thundering in his chest.

\- Really, I'm younger, but not by THAT MUCH. I swear I swear, it's fine. Oh god... please stop panicking. I'm dying here...!!

The younger man bent forward, holding his stomach as he kept laughing under his breath. He eventually stopped (It took too long seriously, the nerve...). He sat up, grinning and rubbed the corner of his eyes, trying to dry of the tears of laughter that were still there, his cheeks flushed with amusement.

Shiro frowned, blushing in embarrassment, which turned into a vexed pout. His heart's pounding slowed down, return to the steady uncomfortable state kind.

\- ...glad to see I can make you laugh. You pest.

He chortled, barely able to stop a new wave of uncontrollable laughter. He raised his hand, patting Shiro on the shoulder and gripped at it.

\- Oh god... yes okay. My age, I'm 25. You're all safe from the angry moms,  **Daddy.**

Shiro snorted at the nickname.

\- If you call me “daddy” again, I'm shucking you out the window.

\- Take if from me,  **Daddy** is way better than  **Pappy** .

The color drained from Shiro's face at that point, making the young man laugh so loud, people around them growled in annoyance, some even asking them to keep it down. Shiro took the young man by the shoulders, shook him once and finally pointed a finger at his nose, which made him stop. He stared at the finger, a smile splitting his face in half.

\- No.

His tone was final. It made the dark haired man look up, eyes still dancing with humor. He nodded.

\- I'll find something better. Promise.

\- Or you can just ask my name.

The gorgeous man rose his shoulders in a dismissive manner.

\- Nah, I rather like telling the story about the stranger who let me sleep on his lap for two hours without even knowing who I am.

\- Sleep?

Crossing his arm, the perfect embodiement of his wet dreams (...Shiro, please stop.) leaned against his shoulder, hid his nose in the crook of Shiro's neck and took a deep breath. He had a small smile when Shiro instinctively circled his left arm around his waist, holding him in place.

\- Yeah. I'm beat. You know...

He yawned silently, shuffling closer.

\- ...you smell real good big guy.

By the time Shiro realized this was really happening, the most beautiful man he had ever met was on his lap, sleeping like the dead, cuddled against his large frame. He must have blushed all the way to his toes, but thankfully nobody was there to laugh at him this time. Extending a hand, he grabbed his coat and pulled it on top of his protégé. The young man sighed in comfort, one of his hands grabbing at the fabric of Shiro's shirt.

From then on, he slept all the way to their destination.

For a while, Shiro's body remained stiff and uncomfortable. He could barely believe what had just happened and replayed the entire interaction in his mind over and over again. Compared to when he had a panic attack, the scene flashing in front of his eyes made him warm, amused. He could scarcely believe it, but the presence of the man on his lap was proof enough.

Around 8h30, the bus eased into the parking lot of their destination. Raising his hand slowly from the young man's back, Shiro caressed his hair, scratching at his scalp gently.

\- Hey. We're here. Wake up.

The young man's eyes half opened and he looked up at Shiro, hostility emanating from every pore of his body. He bared his teeth, growling like a dog and turned his head, hiding his face in Shiro's neck.

Shiro decided this guy was way to adorable.

\- Come on. You need to wake up before we get thrown out. People are already filing out.

Laughing softly, he pulled his coat off the thin body which contracted at the sudden cold.

\- Hmmm... I really really hate you right now...

\- I bet you do. Get up or I'll carry you out.

The gorgeous man snorted.

\- Don't tempt me.

And finally pulled himself off Shiro's lap, stretching, He grabbed the bag in the rack on top of Shiro's seat and picked up a large portfolio that was leaning against the wall at the back of the bus, before stepping in line with the other passengers. His hair was a mess and his leather jacket crooked on his shoulders, falling off one, making Shiro want to kiss it. He yawned loudly, getting an outraged gasp from an older lady standing in front of him.

With a chuckle, Shiro put his coat back on, picking up his book and briefcase from the floor. Stuffing the book in his pocket, he approached the young man and straightened his leather coat without asking. The young man looked up at him and smiled tiredly.

\- Thanks for the seat big guy.

\- You're welcome.

Shiro smiled softly back at him, feeling a little sad that their relationship would soon be over. He was so glad for this man, he just wished he had the strength to ask for more. He did not dare, this poor man had seen him in a state of panic and had been good enough to calm him done and not ask about it. He respected him for that, and it was because of that same respect that he did not address his need. So, instead, they stood in a companionable silence, walking slowly forward as the other passengers stepped off the bus.

The perfect man jumped down, his combat boot scrapping at the gravel on the uneven ground. He looked up and a genuine smile appeared on his face. With a laugh, he jogged forward, disappearing through the door of the terminal in a mass of people. Shiro sighed sadly and walked towards the entrance, pulling his cellphone from the inside pocket of his coat. He dialed a number he knew by heart and brought the device to his ear while leaning against a window from inside the building.

A friendly voice he knew well answered.

\- Hey Captain America. How's saving the world going?

He huffed, holding back a laugh.

\- If I'm Captain America, you're Scott Pilgrim, you nerd. Beat any boyfriends lately?

Matt had been a good friend since his days in the military. They had been together from the beginning to the end, to such a level, that most people called them married just out of spite. Matt was a legitimate genius, had saved Shiro's ass more than once with his quick thinking and he would not change him for the world.

\- Well that's just rude. I think I'll let you WALK home Superman.

\- Well Alfred, I think I could run it in about half an hour, but seriously you owe me. So come pick me up, I'm tired.

\- Fine. But we get pizza and you pay for it.

Shiro sighed, shaking his head, a soft smile drawing itself on his face.

\- Fine, but I chose the toppings. No buts, just come.

Before his best friend could protest, he hung up, putting his phone back in his pocket. The thing buzzed a couple of times, he chose to ignore it.

Turning around, he looked outside, cringing at the state of the sky. It looked like a serious storm was coming their way. This had been a rather strange day, he had to admit and the dread of pain in his weary joints darkened his mood..

\- Hey big guy.

Blinking in surprise, Shiro twisted back around, gaze lowering to the young man that had shared his seat during the bus ride. Another man, which was trying desperately to look like he did not care about the both of them, was playing with his phone, standing behind him. Shiro could see how his eyes kept flicking towards them, visibly curious about a story he had probably just heard.

The older man chose to ignore him and brought his gaze back to violet eyed man standing in front of him. He smiled kindly. Ah damn, this guy was too gorgeous for words...

\- I thought you had already left. What's up?

\- Thought better of it. Give me your arm.

As he said this, he opened his coat and fiddled in his pocket, taking out a pen. Out of habit about being asked about his prosthetic, Shiro dropped the heavy piece of machinery in the young man's hand. The guy grabbed for it, yelping in surprise. He stared at it, then back up at Shiro, glowering at him.

\- I bet you think you're being funny huh?

Shiro smiled at him and laughed.

\- Maybe?

Shaking his head, the young man put the pen back in his pocket and pulled out a black sharpie. Pulling the cap off with his teeth, he pushed the sleeve of Shiro's shirt AND coat up to his elbow.

\- Don't complain to me if you can't get it off, hot stuff.

Shiro stared at him as he started writing on the prosthetic. He usually would have pulled his arm away, but that nickname... “hot stuff” froze him in place. He must have understood wrong. Since the accident, nobody had ever called him close to “hot”. He tilted his head and frowned.

\- If you're drawing a dick on there, I'll slap you with it, you pest.

The man behind the gorgeous boy sniggered, having given up on pretending he was not intrigued by the interaction. His light blue eyes had the same kind of mirth than the other, the same kind of body type and shape, stature. Shiro figured they must be related or very close friends.

\- There. No dicks, promise. I'd get lost in the details if I took the time.

He laughed.

Shiro looked back down, seeing the young man closing the sharpie and stuffing it back in his pocket. His eyes turned to his arm that was still extended in front of him. Before he could see what had been done to it, mr. wet dreams grabbed him by the collar, pulling him roughly down.

Without having the time to register what was happening, Shiro got caught into the most intense kiss of his life. The lips on his were soft and full, teeth scrapping at his sensitive skin. A warm tongue was pressed against his lower lip, forcing a chocking moan out of him and giving access to the inside of his mouth in no time. His knees almost gave way when that same tongue licked the back of his teeth in clear hunger. His eyes rolled at the back of his head and he felt his gut clench as desire bloomed in the lower pits of his groin. He groaned in the other man's mouth, getting a chuckle in return.

It was over before he even had the strength to really respond. With one last soft kiss, the young, vibrant, sexy, perfect man whispered against his lips.

\- Call me, hot stuff... I'll be waiting.

Then pulled away. He winked at Shiro and spun on his toes, grabbing the other guy by the arm. They both walked away, elbowing each other, chatting and laughing, as Shiro just stared, floating.

He was still staring when his phone rang again. He mechanically answered, recognizing Matt's ringtone.

\- Yeah...?

\- Hey I'm here, where are you dude?

\- I... I'll be right there.

He looked down on his arm and there, written hastily on the inside was a clear message:

**Keith 555 359-1274  
Call me, or else.  <3**

Keith...

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I am not done with my other fic. But I had this idea and I needed my babies to feel a little better than in my other work, so there.
> 
> An old friend of mine did something similar to this once.  
> It makes me wonder how attractive you have to be to sit on a stranger's lap for them to LET YOU STAY THERE.  
> Apparently IT'S A THING.
> 
> Comments and kudos are loooved, cherished, packaged, pinned on my board. <3  
> Don't be shy and come chat with me, I also art a lot:  
> seiteki9.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

Usually, on days after panic attacks, Shiro needed to cradle himself into the largest and warmest clothes he had, generally a large fluffy white hoodie he kept at the bottom of his drawers (His mother said, it made him look like a fat sheep, not too bad considering everything...). The cocooning habit had wormed itself into his being, faking a sort of comfort he could not get away from anymore. However, on the day after his bus ride, he sat up in his bed, still exhausted by the event, but without the need to bundle up like a 6 year old (Matt would have said HE WAS a 6 year old, but leap year baby jokes were lost on him).

He brushed his fingers through his short hair, scratching the back of his neck and slid off bed, putting his feet inside the slippers he had carefully placed besides it the night before. He quickly became aware, when he came back home after the accident, that obsessive habits anchored him. His mind could understand routine and processed the information much more easily when it knew that every day, he took breakfast at the same time, took a shower, dressed up and so on and so forth. The simple idea of having a very fixed schedule had helped him more than any kind of therapy he had gone through. He did not have to think about it, did not have to make any hard decisions, it was safe and grounding.

Catalogued by his friends as the _« boring guy »_ within weeks of this, he stepped away from their entire group without shame. Most of them spent their evenings in bars to flirt with women (or men, or others...), got drunk until they forgot their own name and finally tried to walk home to wake up under an overpass miles away from their intended destination. Shiro was unable to go all « frat party » like they did anymore. Age was not the issue, since he had a high tolerance for alcohol, but his nerves could not, WOULD NOT, take it. Not anymore.

Luckily, Matt was the same, so when he moved out to the country to follow orders, his best friend followed without a second thought.

They both settled into a steady teaching job, Shiro drilling young cadets to become fighter pilots, while Matt shaped their scientific minds. They soon became the most beloved and respected teachers in their academy. Being discarded as broken plane parts by the army had finally started to slowly turn into a distant nightmare, one they learned to live with. At least, teaching was a secure job that Shiro could control. He was not trilled by it, but could deal with the boredom. 

What he could not deal with, however, was Matt being observant. His friend knew him in and out, he knew when Shiro was having a bad day, knew when his body was bordering insanity... and definitely knew when he was hiding something.

Shiro had not forgotten the written words on his arm and had immediately saved the data into his cellphone, but felt so elated by the simple idea of being flirted with, that he fended off the need to wash his prosthetic before sleep. He went to bed staring at the name scribbled on the alloy, mesmerized. 

_Keith..._

The gorgeous man had clearly found the idea amusing. He had easily just written his phone number on a stranger's arm, no trace of fear on his crystal shaped features. The notion of the entire thing being a joke crossed Shiro's mind several times before he fell asleep, but he still woke up with the distinct need to try to contact Keith. He had no idea what to say, or how much time was too short, or even too long to reach out, but he definitely needed to do it. Soon, very soon.

While he stepped out of his room, he pulled down on the sleeve of his shirt, trying to keep the scribbles hidden, but unintentionally bringing attention to it. He mumbled under his breath, barely waving at Matt, who was sitting in the living room with a bowl of fruit loops on his lap. Shiro guarded himself from commenting about the man's eating habits. The last time he had done so, Matt had gone into a heated battle about his dire need for colored sugary goodness that helped him see the beauty into this world. (I mean, what?) He argued that if an helicopter crash had not taken him, a few bowls of processed sugar would at least not add new scars on his, now, not so handsome face.

Matt was far from **ugly** , he was just a little “banged up”. The accident had done a number on him that he barely dealt with every day. This idea of blaming Shiro had never crossed Matt’s mind, but Shiro still decided to do it for him, daily. The trauma on Matt’s body was as horrifying as his own, but the wide scar on his young face never went unnoticed. It ran across his right eye, rendering it blind, crawling up and over his forehead all the way to the center of his scalp. The disfiguration was deep and a reddish skin tone that held no secret. The injury had made him suffer a great deal; it sometimes still did, in various ways. They were Matt’s own version of “ _bad days_ ”.

\- You do know you are being extremely suspicious right. Is there something wrong with your prosthetic? Does it need a service check? 

Shiro stepped into the kitchen, dropping two pieces of bread in the toaster. He considered ignoring him, but knew how well that usually worked (A.k.a. Not at all!), so he sighed. He turned around nonchalantly and shrugged, leaning against the pristine counter tops. 

\- Nothing is wrong with it. It feels stiff. I bet a snowstorm is coming. 

Shiro rolled his right shoulder in emphasis, but grabbed at the sleeve when he was done. Pulling it back down infinitesimally, he looked back at the toaster, willing it to cook his bread faster. 

Matt hummed, swallowing a few spoons full of his sugary cancer. He flipped through screens on his tablet and finally looked up, licking his lips, tongue chasing the sweet taste he loved. 

\- Don't lie to me Shirogane. We are like an old couple. I know you by heart; have seen parts of you I would rather forget. I always believed, when I was young, I might die in peace someday, but I don’t think it probable, since you obstinately surmise I will suddenly become an idiotic twitter brain and post photos of your abs on Instagram, rather than see how you are STILL pulling at the sleeve of the ugliest university hoodie you own. I am aware how heedful I am of you, so stop trying to conceal what ever « this » is. You're failing just as badly as teens trying to hide a boner, the only definite impossibility in every reality. 

\- Huhmm... «  _tell me what's wrong_  » would have been an easier option than what ever insanity you just vomited Matt... 

Matt snorted, dipping his nose back down into his tablet. He twirled his spoon in his bowl, picking a purple fruit loop with his finger, throwing it in his mouth and finally sucking on his fingers. The entire thing was ridiculous and somewhat disgusting, but common around their house.

\- I never do anything «  _easily_  » MegaMan. What's up?

\- STOP with the ridiculous nicknames! 

He heard Matt growl a “neveeeeerrr” as he forked down a few more spoons of cereal.

Picking up his toasts when they finally popped up, Shiro dropped them on a plate and grabbed the pot of peanut butter, a banana and a knife, before walking back to the living room and sitting on Matt's left side. He put his breakfast on the living room's table, pushing papers and books away to the side.

\- It's hard to explain.

\- Just, show me the arm. I won't get mad if you damaged it. 

His friend put his bowl precariously on top of a pile of astrophysics books, grabbed the spoon and brought it back to his mouth, clenching it between his teeth. He then extended his hand, expectantly.

Shiro groaned, Matt could be such a pain sometimes. He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, asking any God that was listening for mercy. Rubbing his face wearily, he protested.

\- I **didn't**.

Matt still grabbed his arm roughly and pushed the scratchy fabric of his hoodie half way up his forearm, staring down at it with clinical interest. His eyes remained vacant for about half a second, before they widened in shock. He pulled the arm closer, pushing the sleeve higher, eyebrows knotting together.

\- Keith? Who is _KEITH_?

Shiro’s answer was a mumble. He had wanted to keep the meeting a secret for a little longer, he wished that would have been possible.

\- A guy I met on the bus…

Matt squinted at him, he seemed unsure about the words he had heard. Shiro frowned. I guess it WAS weird what had happened. Both of them had not accepted their predicament, but knew they would probably be stuck with one another for the rest of their lives, the fake married couple. Who would want somebody so damaged? Shiro surely did not. He barely could stand his own mental breakdowns, let alone Matt’s, since they fueled one another.

\- A guy you met on the bus? You met a guy on the bus? What? Did you flirt or is this just a friend thing?

He looked back down at the arm and read the words again.

\- This looks like a joke a friend would do. Not funny however, what if it doesn’t come off?

Licking his thumb, he tried rubbing the black letters of the metal, successfully making it fade. Shiro yanked the arm out of his grasp, before any more damaged could be done.

\- Don’t! I… I’ll take care of it later…

Matt yelped in surprise, leaning away from Shiro at the sudden reaction. His irises shrunk, fear crossing his features for a heartbeat. His regular friendly expression returned, the horror casted aside. He raised an eyebrow, ruffling his hair with a steady hand. He dropped his tablet on the sofa and turned fully towards his friend.

\- Shiro, do you have a crush on this guy?

\- What? Nooo…

The words felt fake in his mouth. He did not have a crush. Please. A chuckle died in his throat.

No way…

NO WAY!

Fuck… FUCK, he had a crush, a stranger had tangled his heartstrings and he could not unravel the tights knots constricting his chest. Shit. SHIT. This was a mess waiting to happen. Shiro could not get infatuated so easily, the walls he had built around his heart should have been stronger, higher, thicker and yet this small, perfect man had kicked his ribcage wide open with a few simple words: _“Call me, hot stuff… I’ll be waiting”_.

Shiro looked down at his hands. He gritted his teeth when Matt did not even consider replying to his lie. His answer left him dry, his heart cracking at the mere thought of failure.

\- Shit…

\- Figures... Did you call him yet?

Shiro shook his head. He stared at his arm longingly and finally rested his fingers on top of the numbers, successfully hiding them. This was a mistake, a very embarrassing one. He should discard the entire event and file it as a nice wet dream. Nobody was interested in Shiro, especially not gorgeous, young, starry-skied eyed, toned young men. He had felt so small, so perfect in his arm, to such an extent that Shiro mourned his absence. Ridiculous… he was so far gone because of a 15 minutes conversation, he did not dare think about what it would have been like to meet him again.

He remembered the look his friend had given him. Right, a joke… it must have been a hoax. He had probably been the laughingstock of their evening. Shiro felt so inadequate, he hid his face in his hands, his blood turning to ice.

\- Where is your phone?

\- Bedroom.

Shiro let go of his face, mortified. A prank… a practical joke… of course it was. People were cruel, so cruel. Life had such a way of taking things you did not know you had away. He watched as the remnants of his hope for happiness flew away. He was so exhausted by his ruined life, regret had become such a second nature that it always ruined everything.

Matt stood up without another word and walked away. When he came back, his steps were silent and light. He dropped himself back on the couch and mumbled under his breath. He threw the cellphone on Shiro’s lap after a short moment with a satisfied grunt.

\- There, all done. Now make me proud and stop sulking. It does not suit you.

Shiro stared at the phone, unseeing. He finally focused when he realized the screen was unlocked and displaying a recently sent text message.

_“Hi. This is Shiro’s friend. He is recently deceased due to “phone number on his arm” and unable to type a suitable reply. I figured I should let you know, so you can send him flowers, heart-shaped chocolate, or colored dildos. You know, what ever you guys are into. I’m leaving him in your hands; don’t break my faith in you.”_

His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He read the text message at least a thousand times, before slowly turning his head towards his friend, a look of horror etched on his face.

\- MATT! YOU CAN’T JUST…! WHY WOULD YOU…!

They both screamed, grabbing each other’s hands when the phone suddenly rang. The device slid down Shiro’s knees, bouncing on the floor at his feet. The screen flashing a single name: Keith. Oh no… he was calling.

Without thinking, Shiro untangled his fingers from Matt’s and bent forward, picking the phone up. He stared at it. The name flashed, as the phone kept ringing. His friend’s hand appeared in front of his face, pressing the “answer” button before the call went to voicemail. Shiro shot him the darkest glare he could come up with and muttered.

\- I swear, next time I’ll really kill you…

Then brought the device to his hear, taking a deep breath. He counted to four, while closing his eyes, hoping that he was wrong, that it had not been a prank. His soul desperately grasped at the wings attached to the remains of his hope, weeping.

\- Hello?

\- Hey there hot stuff. So, what’s you favorite color? 

Keith’s voice was smooth in his ear, painted with laughter and hints of fatigue. Shiro tried not to grasp at the nickname, “hot stuff”… He felt his heart clench, warmth filling his cheeks. The question made him puzzled however.

\- Black. Why?

\- I figured that if I was going to get you a ceremonial dildo, I might as well ask you your favorite color 

A curse escaped Shiro’s lips at the reply. He stood up and walked out of the living room, escaping Matt’s inquisitive stare, glad his friend hadn’t heard Keith’s answer. He leaned against the wall in the corridor and bit the nail on his left thumb nervously. He recognized the playful banter, but was not sure he was up to the task that morning. His mind felt a little bit stretched.

\- I might just kill the both of you, prepare yourself… pest. 

He growled under his breath.

His answer was welcomed by the same amused laughter, a soft bell chiming in his ear softly. He heard the sound of fabric being pushed around and Keith taking a deep breath, then a soft yawn. Had he woken him up? He dragged his phone down and looked at the time: 9:26. Late. He had not even realized how long he had slept himself. 

\- At least I’m still a pest.

The answer barely registered in the phone’s speakers. Shiro pressed the device back on his ear, determined not to miss a single word being spoken to him. He was surprised when he was able to formulate a fairly coherent answer.

\- Damn it Keith, I think I just flat-lined. You cannot ask me stuff like that. You really are merciless.

\- Why? I thought it was hilarious. Your friend sure gets me. I don’t know what you told him, but good job. And, he gets a ton of points for forcing you to reach out.

Keith laughed some more. Relief flooded Shiro’s mind. The young man he was crushing on was glad, he was happy that he had messaged him. A few of the needles stabbed in his heart dropped out; letting in myriads of emotions he had not felt in a long time. He wanted to jump, to try and believe someone might be interested. If only he could ask him out, a movie, coffee, just a walk perhaps? But Shiro was far from being able to function so normally, Keith however, had no qualms in stating what he wanted.

\- Want to go out for coffee, hot stuff? I’ll pay as thanks for yesterday.

\- You don’t have to do that, you thanked me enough. 

Keith tutted at his answer, he moved some more and Shiro heard the sound of metal rings on a railing, then feet on the ground.

\- Don’t I get to guess the drink you like the best at Starbucks? I bet it’s something like a Caramel Macchiato with a mountain of cream on top, or one of their ridiculous Christmas beverage. You look like a closet sugar bug.

\- What…? No I… don’t really… go to Starbucks.

The worse was that Shiro could not even tell him he was wrong. He really DID love these drinks and always got himself at least one Gingerbread Latte when the Holidays came around. He was an open book and Keith knew his language.

\- Come on, don’t make me beg Shiro. I love the chase, but I’m not a patient man. 

His words were soft, but full of meaning. Either Shiro was in, or he was out, and if he was out, he could kiss seeing Keith again **goodbye**. He pressed a palm on his chest, counting his heartbeats. He was still here, he was not dreaming. So he stepped off the edge.

\- Yeah, I’d love that. How about at 2?

\- 2 sounds perfect. Now don’t flunk out of me big guy.

He could here the smile on the young man’s lips when he answered, even as he whispered the hidden menace again. He thought he could see him grin, or how his eyes might have gleamed in delight when he uttered his next answer.

\- I can’t wait to see your perfect butt again, can I squeeze it when you hug me?

Keith would probably be the death of him, and what a sweet death it would be.

\- You…

The embarrassment leaked out of his pores, constricting his throat as he tried to reply. There were a thousand kinds of ways to die, but Shiro thought he might have found a painless one. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the mere thought of Keith wanting to touch him. He wanted it. He wanted it so badly he had to bite back a groan, which was ridiculous. They were only talking. 

He swallowed heavily, pushing back the want, the need and the images of the both of them tangled together as deep as he could. Hopefully, just temporarily. How long had it been? Too long. Maybe he should have listened to Matt and payed himself some company from time to time, he would have been less pathetic.

\- Right. I’m hanging up now, before my heart EXPLODES from just talking to you.

The gorgeous man laughed again.

\- Shiro…

The way he called his name was soft, fond, and wonderful in his ear. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. Shiro closed his eyes, picturing it, and it was beautiful.

\- I’ll see you later then. Starbucks on 5th, whoever’s first should wait inside. It’s cold.

\- Okay. Bye Keith.

\- Laterz Hot Stuff. <3 

Hanging up, he Let himself slide against the wall until he crouched down. He gripped the phone, hoping for something he could not quite place yet. Happiness, love, companionship maybe, he was not sure. It was just a ridiculous coffee date, it might even mean nothing, but his heart dared hoping.

He stood back up after a long moment and walked to his bedroom, searching for something suitable to wear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a naughty Keith is far too entertaining.  
> I enjoyed doing this chapter, Matt is one of my favorite character and I've always pictured him as some kind of a dork. An excellent best friend I believe. <3
> 
> Comments and kudos are loved! <3  
> Come chat with me and/or scream about how far June 15 is on tumblr!  
> seiteki9.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee date! <3

 

He was early, about fifteen minutes too early, when he reached the coffee shop. To his relief, it looked oddly empty and Keith was nowhere in sight. He did not want to think of how difficult it might have been to walk up to the young man, especially with all his insecurities darkening his thoughts like a cancerous disease. Maybe Keith had forgotten what Shiro looked like (You saw him the day before??!!??), or he was going to leave him there to ROT until he gave up, or the gorgeous boy would realize that he was out of his league, far from deserving of his perfectly packaged sexiness. So many things could go wrong; Shiro’s nerves were going into overdrive

Calm down Shiro. It’s just sharing a coffee not marriage, for God’s sake.

Looking around, he registered the wooden panels on the walls, the aluminum tables and the single barista working at the coffee machines. The tall girl nodded at him before continuing to serve a small plump woman with pepper and salt hair, a tall lanky man standing besides her. The barista flashed him an enticing grin, almost asking him to run to her. _“Right, let’s walk away”_ , he thinks.

He sat at a small round table, away from the windows, mindful of his own state of mind. _If you sit away from loud noises, you will be fine_. At least he had not forgotten to take his medication and by the time he got coffee in his system, if it ever happened, there should not be any nausea or discomfort. Bless the Lord.

A coffee date…

A coffee. DATE.

The words felt out of place, even if his best friend had tried to convince him his outing was just that. He did not really believe it.

His last conversation with Matt replayed in his mind…

 

_Going on a date? Congrats. You look great Shiro._

_Thanks, but It’s not a date._

_Did he not ask you to meet him for coffee?_

_He did._

_Did he say anything about paying, spending time with you or getting to know each other?_

_He mentioned… paying as thanks and… asked me to not make him beg for guessing what I liked to buy at Starbucks?_

_Wow, my hero. He is so perfect for you. Here, let me enlighten you… Internet, deliver. Ah, here we go. Ahem! “ Dating: [Noun] A form of romantic courtship typically between two individuals with the aim of assessing the other's suitability as a partner in an intimate relationship or as a spouse. The result of dating may at any time lead to friendship, any level of intimate relationship, marriage, or no relation.”_

_Okay?_

_Call me a romantic, but that sounds an awful lot like what you are going to do right now._

_It’s not COURTSHIP._

_Being thirsty for a cute guy is a prequel to courtship Thor. So go dazzle him with your thunder._

_OH GOD. Why am I even FRIENDS with you?!_

He was not sure if he should believe this, wish it, or want it, but Matt sure had a way of putting things in perspective. A ridiculous way to do it, which always included some kind of nickname, but still better than how Shiro fared by himself.

His leg started bouncing under the table as the words circled in his head. He had to press a hand on it at some point, when he got a glare from the tiny woman that had taken place at the neighboring table shortly after him (Why? Go away, the room is HUGE). Her coffee was still steaming and smelled vaguely of candy canes and bad teeth rotting decisions. Sniffing loudly when he grabbed his limb with his right hand, she was about to look away when her gaze locked. A look of horror suddenly crosses her portly face, than pity, the kind he despised.

What? What had he done?

Looking down, he noticed the problem immediately. He had forgotten to put some gloves on. Shit. His prosthetic hand was completely exposed. Oh god, it was **revolting** , how the silver surface reflected the angry glow of the neon lights in the shop. It was unnatural, offending. Somebody he did not know had seen he was missing a limb.

No. This was far from acceptable.

Biting his tongue, he felt his breath turn to ash his lungs. Shit, he was going to hyperventilate. Clear your mind Shiro. Everything is going to be okay, you can get control of this. It is just one person, one single woman who will not meddle in your affairs. He closed his eyes, trying to convince himself of that fact and failed.

_Abort mission! Children, women and invalids first! We are GOING DOWN! HELL AS OPENED UP AND IS TAKING VOLONTEERS! YES ME FIRST!_

His eyes skidded nervously around the shop, who had noticed? Other people MUST have noticed, but the place was empty, except for the couple close to him and the barista. The woman was still staring at him. She leaned forward and talked to the man sitting besides her. Looking up as well and he unshamelessly stared. _More pity_. The woman looked like she wanted to stand up and walk his way.

Fuck no.

No. No no no. _Oh GOD no!_

Panic raised like a tidal wave, crashing and destroying the resolve he had in his heart. The belief of possible happiness washed away, discarded and forgotten. He clasped at his hand desperately. He needed to leave immediately before Keith came. This “date” was a huge mistake. He was a huge mistake. He was not ready. He could not do this. He needed to go back home, where it was safe and people did not see all his inadequacies… KEITH did not see his multiple pathetic inadequacies. Fuck, he was going to throw up.

His therapist kept repeating how he needed to get out and meet new people. He had thought about it, and realized it was one of the many reasons why he had stepped out of his home that day. Panic and regret twisted in his gut, reminding him how feeble his mind was. Okay, stand up Shiro, you need to leave. Right now. It is not two yet, isn’t it? Walk away and apologize for it later.

Midst the panic, he did not notice the sound of bell chime announcing a client entering the premises. Thankfully, his back was at the door, so when he felt a hand resting suddenly on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, his date not aware of how ready he was to run for the hills.

\- Hey stranger. Waiting for somebody?

He flinched at being touched, but recognized the voice. It sounded a little muffled, but still just as soft and calming. It took too long for Shiro to look up, but when he did, the calming sea stared back. He let go of a breath he had not realized he was holding back, his lungs burning. Opening his mouth with every intent on saying his date’s name, try calling him, but the sounds never came out.

The bashful look on Keith’s face quickly turned into an alarmed one. His grip on Shiro’s shoulder tightened slightly.

\- Fuck… you’re sweating bullets. What’s up Shiro?

Shiro gazed down, trying to hide his prosthetic hand. He knew Keith might probably understand the problem; he was so damaged, the simple thought of walking around without gloves pushed him over the edge.

He was resolved, as he shifted his gaze back up, to see the look of pity portrayed on Keith's pretty face, but it never came. Instead, his mouth formed a silent “oh” and he smiled kindly, straightening back up. He gently pulled on the gloves he was wearing and sat down on an empty chair after scooting it closer with a foot. Grabbing the metal hand, he pulled and looked up when he was met with stubborn resistance.

\- Hey. It’s fine. It’s just me.

He pulled again and Shiro reluctantly let him, afraid. Sliding one of the gloves on the prosthetic, he pushed the fabric as high as it could go. He stared for half a beat, when he saw his phone number still written on the metal limb. A smile tugged at his lips. He finally pulled the sweater’s sleeve back down when he was done. It was a considerate action, one that made Shiro’s heart swell.

\- Here. Sorry they are fingerless, but it’s better than nothing, right?

He laced their fingers together, tightening his grip on the metal fingers. He cocked his head to the side, tendrils of dark hair brushing against his cheeks. Shiro felt his nerves and heart settle a bit. Damn, he was perfect. How could anybody be so perfect? He was a statistic impossibility.

\- I…

He hesitated. Keith had the power to make him feel better. The wonder of it was not lost on him, but he felt like he should give thanks.

\- Yeah?

Or maybe just say how he feels. A miracle, this young man he barely knew was a miracle from high above. He held back the words as they are about to spill, but turned those around in an attempt to shield himself, making the statement seem too ridiculous to be truthful.

\- I was wondering if it was too early to ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven…?

Keith lets out a loud snort and exploded in laughter, pink shading his cheeks. He brushed his thumb on the back of Shiro's hand and leaned forward, pressing his forehead on his arm as he kept laughing uncontrollably. The older man really liked it when Keith laughed, it was so genuine, and it made him grin.

\- What? Why are you laughing? Too much?

The young man sat back up, grinning back, his cheeks still flushed.

\- Pff… ahahah. You're so corny. Yep, definitely too early. First, buy me a few shots of vodka and some tequila, **and then** you can ask again. But don’t get your hopes up, I might laugh louder. I didn’t think people still used that line to flirt. What a champion. I have to admit though, I'm certain that I probably clawed up from hell, no shame in getting it wrong hot stuff. It's cute.

\- Lets agree to disagree, because I believe that's highly unlikely.

Clasping their hands strongly together, Shiro shared the laugh with pleasure. If this is what peace was like, he loved every second of it.

Keith finally stood back up, letting go of Shiro's hand reluctantly, smiling.

\- All right, so as promised, what can I get you?

Frowning, Shiro shook his head, uncomfortable with the concept of a younger man buying him stuff. Well, coffee was not “stuff”, but he just could not let it happen.

\- You don't need to b...

Before he can finish his sentence, Keith leaned back in, grabbing his jaw with a strong hand, pressing his lips on Shiro's. His second kiss with a stranger, a guy he had barely met. Shiro sees stars, planets aligning in a flawless pattern. Beauty. 

At first, the kiss was soft, then insistent, pushing Shiro against his chair. He felt his head tilt back and his entire body shrunk under the sheer presence of this overwhelming young man. His eyes rolled back as he closed his eyelids, enjoying every single second. The touch on his jaw was strong, nails digging into his skin as a show of dominance.

This time, Shiro let himself kiss back, his hand grasping desperately at the table. He wanted to open his mouth and turn the entire interaction into something filthy, wet, needy, but he did not. He could not. Even though he wanted it so badly.

Keith eventually let go, his lips remaining very close to Shiro's. The older man swallowed, feeling butterflies overrunning his stomach. Their lips brushed together as his angel spoke again, the words a soft whisper, breath tickling his tongue. Shiro was panting.

\- I said... what can I get you?

\- I... Vanilla Latte?

Pushing back with a complacent smile on his face, Keith put his hands in his pockets. Shiro had no idea what he looked like at this very moment, but he hoped it was not too close to what he was presently feeling, which was overwhelmed, horny, floating on air and in need of so much more than just a single kiss.

\- Are you sure? They have that disgusting eggnog coffee on the menu right now. I won't judge too much if you want that.

Shiro nodded lightly, trying to grasp at his sanity and mostly failing. He brushed a hand through his hair picking up the second glove Keith had apparently discarded on the table. Looking at it, as if it seemed more natural than just asking for something he could not put into words. He put it back down. He was surprised when he was able to talk, since his heart was drumming uncontrollably.

\- Huhmm... caffeine and...

He frowned, deciding there was no need to admit his mental state. It would probably make Keith run away and Shiro wanted to enjoy his company a little bit longer.

\- No matter. Believe me if I say: it's better if I keep it to a minimum.

Keith did not argue against it, nor did he ask any questions. He simply nodded with the same smile and walked away towards the counter. Shiro watched him for a while, noticing how his hair was a mess he had tied up in a small ponytail, adorable. His small frame was hidden under a heavy leather jacket and his long legs trapped in a pair of black skinny jeans, covered at the ankles by a pair of worn combat boots. He had this natural ease when he leaned on the counter, talking to the barista who was giving him a plastic smile. He did not give it back, a frown shadowing his fine features.

That was strange. Why was he frowning? Shiro searched through his memory for a moment when Keith was not laughing or smiling. He did find a few instances: When he was sleeping, when Shiro woke him up and when he fell on his lap, but besides that...

As he waited, Keith took off his coat, holding it on the crook of his arm. The barista turned back, handing him the drinks, her smile stretching. This time, it was much more genuine, charged with interest, lust? She leaned forward, her hand brushing his when he took the two cups. His expression turned sour. She talked to him for a short while, clutching as his hand. He shook his head and spun around, walking away. The girl leaned her chin on the back of her hand, despondent. Shiro noticed how her eyes graze Keith’s body like a hungry animal. He did not like it.

The young man came back, a smile back on his face. Resting both cups on the table, he tilted his head to the side, analysing Shiro’s expression.

\- What?

Shiro had to admit the girl had some wicked taste. Without his coat on, Keith’s long sleeved shirt was hugging every curve of his body, showing off his defined hips, a wine red scarf wrapped jealously around his long neck, contrasting with the glow of the skin of his collarbone. He felt the natural pull the young man had on him, that was some power.

\- Did you get a phone number?

He felt ridiculous about asking. He should not have. Keith’s smile turned into a smirk.

\- Jealous? I’ve already got mine, why would I need another?

\- You took mine.

\- I actually didn’t. Your friend gave it to me, bless his soul.

Dumping his coat on the back of his chair, he approached Shiro again and points at his lap, grinning.

\- Sooo, is this seat taken?

Proceeding to sit down on said lap, not caring that he did not receive an answer. Shiro must have turned purple, because Keith’s laugh bubbled over when he crossed his legs. The young man’s form was warm against his body and it fit like a missing puzzle piece.

\- You really are shameless.

\- I know right? I’m actually surprised by myself.

Still blushing, Shiro curled his arm around Keith’s waist, holding him tight. He wondered about how the strange relationship he was building with the young man might be going too fast. He was far from being in a good enough mental shape to take care of others; he barely dealt with going to school three times a week, let alone having to spend time with students that seemed to love getting into his personal space, while Keith filled his bubble with easy comfort. It was unsettling.

Keith took his coffee and sipped at it, his eyes locking on him. Shiro stared back and smiles softly; feeding off the unfounded fondness he had for the mysterious young man. Keith raised a perfect eyebrow and finally brought his cup back down.

\- So talk to me big guy. What do you do? I mean, besides being a gym rat cut from marble, letting skinny teens sitting on your lap for hours and being so uncomfortable with yourself, you’d rather die than spending time with me. Hell, you almost had me beg.

Cut from marble?  
He shrugged, well he could not deny being uncomfortable with himself. Wanting to die was a recurring feeling too. So Keith had noticed how much of a mess he was, and he was still sitting there. Huh. Strange.

\- I teach at the Garrison. I tutor young cadets into becoming fighter pilots with the simulator and train them on hand-to-hand combat. So more of a coach than gym rat? Throwing an arrogant child over my shoulder is some work-out even though I do spend a lot of time there by myself as well. What about you?

Both Keith’s eyebrows shot up and he made a surprised sound, bringing his cup back down.

\- Never mind me. Seriously?

Shiro blinked in confusion.

\- Seriously what? That I can throw a kid over my shoulder or that I teach?

\- Well both! The Garrison? So it’s not just your body that’s hot, you’re mind too? I swear, you’re better than any image I’ve ever had of the perfect man. So what kind of degrees do you own?

His mind? His body? HOT? Perfect man? It was a good thing Shiro was already blushing, because he might have found a new definition of the physical reaction Keith was bringing out of him. (Something like erupting possibly.) He figured this time could be good as any to take his drink from the table. Coughing, he took a sip, toning down the warm colors on his face.

\- …I have a doctorate in astrophysics, a bachelor’s degree in mathematics majoring in probability and statistics, have dabbled in some aeronautical engineering and…

He hesitated when Keith’s eyes become as big as saucers. Shiro noticed how he had stopped breathing; Keith's next answer was barely a whisper, forced out of his throat so that Shiro would not stop explaining.

\- And?

\- …and received pilot training at a young age. I can fly anything from a helicopter, to a jet or even military prototypes. Well, use to, not anymore, not since my accident. I also know a few… martial arts and… I… what is it?

Keith’s irises had blown out of proportion as Shiro’s words came out. His voice died in his mouth. The young man’s grin was splitting his face in two, his cheeks flushed in pleasure. (Or was it arousal, it looked like arousal.) Not asking, not telling, he grabbed Shiro by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer.

Shiro yelped in surprise.

Raising himself up, he straddled Shiro and took his lips (AGAIN?!) kissing him savagely. The hunger emanating from the man was intoxicating; his teeth were snapping at Shiro’s mouth and his tongue forced it open. It was filthy, wet and making Shiro’s toes curl obscenely. The groan escaping Shiro’s mouth was probably too loud and indecent. The older man grabbed Keith’s hips, grounding himself, or at least tried to.

Strong hands ran across his chest and over his shoulders gripping his neck. Shiro knew that if he died at this instant, he would be happy. The fingers caressing his back trailed his spine, feeding the fire lighting up in his groin. Death might have been sweeter than he had first pictured, and now it had a name… Keith.

When Keith eventually let go, a whine of displeasure escaped the older man’s mouth. The young man tipped his head, resting his forehead against Shiro’s. He licked his lips. His smile was wicked and dirty, the purple in his eyes almost gone, fiery need blazing above it. When he glued his body to Shiro’s, a familiar pressure dug into his abs. Omg. Arousal. It… was… arousal. Shiro felt his soul leave his body a bit more. He grasped at it.

\- You… are hereby allowed to use me like your personal fucking whore. Talk astrophysics to me and I’ll let you fuck me up 7 ways until Sunday. Never mind that, please bring me to your car so that I can suck you dry until you cry. Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, I would do it here if you asked me to.

Shiro whimpered, not sure about how he should answer to that. If he had not had total self-control, drilled in him by the army, he would have picked the guy up and taken him up on his offer. But Shiro was flawed, never answered his urges and did not believe anything positive people said about him.

\- Keith… we barely know each other.

\- That doesn’t change the fact that I seriously want to bone you.

Keith lips slid across Shiro’s jaw, making shivers run down his spine. Fire, more fire. He kissed his cheeks softly and Shiro wanted to take everything and keep it for himself. His head shifted, leaning into Keith’s affectionate ministration. Yes please. More please. Do that again. Damn… he couldn’t. Shouldn’t… Be the adult Shiro. If this makes him run away, he is not the right one. He hoped Keith would not run away.

His hold tensed on Keith’s hips and when he finally made a decision, Grabbing him by the shoulders, he gently pushed him away, dying from embarrassment. Back away. It’s fine. If you want something, you take it, but not like this. Not like this.

\- I would really like it… if we could get to know each other better… first? I mean… we’re in public.

Keith pouted softly, scrutinizing the neighboring tables. A grin appearing on his fine face.

\- Yeah, I think that woman is about to either have an aneurism or the yummiest blog post for her fellow fifty something friends. Want cream with that honey? I can make it a good one. <3

\- Keith!

Keith laughed happily as the lady gasped. She stood up with her husband/friend/companion and ran away, sitting as far from them as she could. Right, death… Keith really was a grim reaper after all. Cream. Who talks about CREAM in that kind of situation? (Apparently Keith does.)

\- Fine, sure. Get to know each other better, I can live with that.

He stepped off, sitting on his own chair. Leaning back, he extended his long legs and rested them on Shiro’s lap, crossing them. He wiggled his foot and smiled. The change of mood was sudden, almost unnatural, but not uncomfortable. There was no disappointment on the boy’s face when he shrugged, sipping on his coffee again. What a relief.

To help himself calm down, Shiro did the same. Resting his free hand on the table, he chose to ignore the familiarity of Keith’s actions. He drank his latte in silence, choosing his words carefully.

He could not help but bring his head down, when he put the cup back on the table. There were things he needed to get out of his chest and he was afraid, terrified even. What if he was right about the boy leaving? He did not want to be right.

\- You are recklessly crazy and too honest. If you wanted to be the death of me, that is definitely the right way to go. My heart just folded on itself and I’m pretty sure my entire body has a hard on. But, I swear to God… if this is your idea of a prank, I kindly ask that you stop right now, before I am in too deep.

Keith’s brows knot together, a frown darkening his features.

\- You don’t believe me when I tell you I think you are hot?

\- I don’t think I am hot.

\- Good thing I am the one looking at you. I mean, not mentioning what we just talked about, I want to get you naked to draw you at every angle. Would you let me do that?

That made Shiro look up. The young man did not seem to be lying. Shiro tried to not be horrified by the idea of being naked in front of someone he barely knew. Keith did not know about the scars, it was not his fault. He had to bite the interior of his mouth to stop the nausea from rising. Scars, they were just scars.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

Taking a deep breath, he disguised it as a sigh and asked the first question that popped into his head.

\- Draw me…? Are you an artist?

\- Yeah. Usually people notice right away, because I’m covered in paint, or glue, or what ever I’m working with at the moment. You caught me during clean days, lucky bastard.

A small smile lit the gorgeous man’s face, as he pulled on his bangs. Nervous gesture?

\- So, would you be comfortable enough to let me? I mean, you can keep boxers on, or even pants if you want. You’re just an ideal model? All those muscles, I’d be really happy if I could study them.

Shiro looked away, shying from the reflection of his face on the metallic table. He wondered what made him anxious more: the idea of Keith seeing him without some piece of clothes on, or to see himself portrayed by somebody else. He comprehended that his vision of himself was far from accurate. Well, maybe not that far. Pretty close. Probably not as horrible as it should be. Matt was injured because of him and… Sam was dead and… the blades…

He took a deep shuddering breath, clinching his eyes shot. Calm down. There’s no fire, no fire. No blades, no helicopter, everybody was safe.

His reply was a little louder than he had intended and brusque. It felt like he had lunged at Keith in self-defence, a dog bite.

\- I don’t have mirrors so that I don’t see myself naked. Why would I want **you** to see me?

It was defensive, an accusation, all he wanted was to be comfortable and Keith was shooting down all his barriers with so much ease, he felt his anger boil over. He moved his free hand, clasping at Keith leg a little too tightly. It was a small gesture, nothing to read too much into. Well, maybe besides the fact that he was terrified the young man would leave. He was not normal. He did not deserve what was offered to him. His thoughts were dark. He was ugly. Matt always said: “I can live with being a monster”, but Shiro knew it was a lie, because he could not.

\- …why don’t you want to see yourself naked?

The question was innocent, caring, but it still unsettled him. Ugly. So ugly. A monster.

\- …

\- Right. I’m sorry. Too direct. It’s fine if you don’t want to. I can draw you with clothes on too. Would THAT be okay?

Clothes. At least they could hide part of the ugliness. Relief was a salve on his wounds.

\- Yeah. That sounds… fine.

They stayed in silence for a moment, the music of the coffee shop sifting through the sounds of the machines while other clients stepped in and out of the building. Most of them left, while others seemed to prefer the natural light filtering in through the windows. Keith and Shiro remained alone at the back of the small store.

It was shameful, how Shiro suffered. He wanted to be stronger, better and he could not. It was just an accident, people got into accidents everyday, but why could he not get passed it?

\- I’m sorry.

The apology was probably for his rude rebuff, or maybe it was about his entire being.

Keith was still sipping at his coffee, innocently comfortable and unbothered by the initial refusal when Shiro looked back up. His gaze was unwavering, reflecting his sadness at Shiro’s state and his curiosity at how deep in the hell of his own mind he lived. There was recognition, understanding and a little of something Shiro did not recognize.

\- What for?

\- I’m a pretty damaged person I guess.

Keith shrugged and forced a smile on his face. He put his coffee down, resting a hand on top of Shiro’s, the one that was still grasping at his leg. Shiro realized how tight his grip had been. He released it, leaving his hand there.

\- So am I. Does it bother you?

Shiro chuckled softly.

\- How are you damaged? You’re perfect.

His answer was preceded by another snort, that one without laughter.

\- Yeah sure, perfectly awful. Don’t worry hot stuff, I don’t think you’re damaged. You DO seem to have some serious issues, but… it’s fine. I have issues of my own.

The cool understanding was everything Shiro did not know he wanted. Shiro did not recall ever feeling more affection for a stranger. He took his drink back up, drinking it slowly, enjoying its softness. No caffeine had been a good idea. Keith’s fingers remained on his hand as he turned it around, taking it gently in his own. He wanted this man and everything that he was.

His calming sea.

It was a stumble back to reality, when another man approached them, locking his arm around Keith’s chair.

\- Keiith, baaabe. Fancy seeing you around.

They both looked up at the intruder, Keith annoyed, Shiro surprised. The man was unusually tall, thin, with dark olive skin and bleached blood shaggy hair. His face was longer than most, with an aquiline nose and a stubble he had probably ignored that morning. His clothes were similar to Keith’s: tight dark jeans, looser vibrant colored shirt, leather coat, with a pair of metallic goggles that fit with his mid-calf high boots. He was not Shiro’s type, but probably still considered handsome.

His arm swerved around Keith’s neck, his fingers lodging themselves into his hair and loosening the small ponytail. His actions revealed a closeness between the two men Shiro did not want to see. The newcomer pulled, forcing Keith’s head back so he looked up at him.

Shiro was not a jealous man, but he still felt it simmer in his lizard brain, its green color filling his vision.

\- Rolo.

The young man pushed the other one away with a rough hand, growling, as his hair was pulled even looser. He scoffed, tugging at the elastic in his hair, making it fall on his shoulders gracefully. Releasing his grip on Shiro, Keith swept his curls backwards, tying his hair back up again, an annoyed expression visible on his fine face.

\- You’re in the way. What do you want dick head?

Resting his hand back on Keith’s seat, the man, Rolo, turned his head towards Shiro. His gaze rolled down and back up Shiro’s body in interest. Shiro felt defiled.

\- So, who’s this fine specimen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear God I am SO SORRY.  
> I was almost done with this on Friday, and was so excited to post it. But I left my entire text in my other computer. I was unable to reach it until today. Sooo, I made it slightly longer and am working on some art to go with it.
> 
> If you are interested, you can either check my tumblr later:  
> seiteki9.tumblr.com  
> Or come back here, I will add it up to the text! =)  
> Note that I also added some art to chapter 2. 
> 
> I also want to apologize for how in a bad bad place poor Space Dad is. I love him a lot, I swear he's going to get better. T_T  
> ON WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER HEEEH X3
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments are loved!  
> Ciao! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the coffee date
> 
> (...or something like... Shiro is too far gone)

Animosity was emanating from Keith in blistering waves as his gaze barely drifted up towards to the newcomer. Rolo, he had called him. His hand was still on Keith's chair, his fingers dangerously close to the young man's neck… his flawless skin. Hands off. HANDS OFF. The screams rang in Shiro’s head, as his stare turned into an icy glare. Those fingers, he wanted them gone, but that man kept close and was still talking. Shiro was not listening anymore, he wanted Keith to pay attention to him. He willed him to look up.

Shiro was not jealous.

He was not.

Really.

Not at all jealous. Nothing. Nope. Can’t be jealous about someone you barely know… someone you’ve just met. Someone who calms your panic attacks with a simple stare. Someone so beautiful, every other color in the world seemed to dim out, fade, become grey. His internal world was dark and twisted, while Keith was a shinning beacon.

If willing him to look up would not work, he would find another way.

So, in a not at all jealous gesture, Shiro seized the ankle still resting on his lap. He brushed his hand up, pulling on the pant leg slightly, just enough for skin to peek out, white and smooth. Brushing his left hand back down, he grabbed the edge of the fabric, his fingers pressing on the warm skin. He wanted to dig his nails in the soft skin. He stared at Keith as he did this, his eyes turning dark in jealousy.

Look at  **me** .

Uncontrollable, unexplained, raw possessiveness.

To his delight, it finally worked. Keith’s gaze lazily slid right back to his face, locking unto him. His frown turned into a smirk and he winked, aware of more than was let on. Yes. That's it. He is mine. Mine.  **Mine** .

\- This… Rolo, is my very attractive, mature, tempting date and if you so much as breathe in his direction, I will make sure you are quite literally unable to maintain life. I hope you are not that brave.

Shiro did not know why, but this statement was probably the single hottest thing that ever came out of Keith’s mouth. (Well, except that wicked tongue…) The levels of the young man’s flirting abilities were out of this world, compared to Shiro's, but the roundabout violence of his words made his spine rigid and his cock so hard, his pants strained under the pressure.

Fucking hell. He was too old to come in his pants like a teenager. Take a deep breath Takashi, you can survive this. What kind of behavior is this? Are you a child?

Rolo did not seem to care about Shiro’s claim or glare, or maybe he did not notice it. His hand remained in the same position. He bent forward, talking to Keith in a lower tone, which Shiro could still hear very well.

\- Right, not breathing I swear… so, you coming to the studio today?

Keith’s gaze did not waver. His eyes latched unto Shiro’s as he answered.

\- Maybe in the late afternoon, like I said before: “I'm busy.”

\- Didn't you say you had this important client to deal with? I mean, you were all in a tizzy two days ago, saying you probably wouldn't have the time to finish in time, how the colors were shit and the client was an idiotic know-it-all. New deadline?

Keith's head snapped to the side and he bared his teeth, like an animal. Pushing his friend's hand away from his chair, he twisted, sliding his legs off Shiro's lap, in anger. His warmth lingered. Shiro's breath stuttered slightly, mourning the loss.

\- Deadline's the same. Now, how about you get your ugly nose out of my business and leave us be chopsticks? Didn't I saw this man was my DATE? You do know what a date is, don't you?

Two important details registered at that point :

  1. It was his first time seeing Keith angry and it was intriguing

  2. Keith was late on a job because of him.




Shiro was not comfortable with that knowledge, he did want to spend as much time as possible with the gorgeous boy, but not at the cost of his work. He brushed aside some details about his thoughts ...wanting to spend time with a stranger, feeling the pull from his body, warmth no longer pressing on his legs. He just wanted to get his hands on him, but he couldn't. He couldn't. Especially not now.  
  


Pushing aside his needs was something Shiro did every day, so he shifted forward, his expression turning into one of worry.

\- Keith, if you're busy, you should have said. I...

His date was definitely waiting for these words, as his hand shot up and pressed on his mouth in a quick motion. His eyes shifted and he smiled softly.

\- It's fine. I'm not in any trouble. One sleepless night won't kill me.

Sleepless night?! From what he took from Rolo, it did not sound like a “one sleepless night” kind of deal, perhaps closer to 2 or 3. Shiro was about to protest, but froze when Keith's fingers brushed softly on his cheek, his thumb on his lower lip, than his hand on his jaw before letting go. His nails caught on a rare light stubble Shiro had not shaved that morning. His smile widened making Shiro's insides turn into jelly.

He let go. Shiro could still feel the softness of his skin, the sharpness of his nails. Shit. He was in so much trouble.

Ripping his eyes from Shiro, Keith stared back up at Rolo, annoyed, hand resting back on his lap.

\- Are you going to leave us be now, or do we have to leave?

\- Don't get your panties in a twist dude, I was just being friendly.

\- My twisted panties have nothing to do with you.

Keith's acquaintance leaned forward again, his hand sliding on Keith's shoulder as he gave him a very clear, suggestive look. Shiro looked away, this was too personal, he felt in the way and since Keith was too far from him, he could not state a claim. Even if... well... Keith was not HIS to claim, but oh GOD did he want him. It was burning at his core, an undying amber he angrily tried to put out to save himself.

\- But they could.

\- No. No they couldn't.

The fire burned brighter. He should stomp it out. He knew that if this did not work out, he would probably die inside so much more than he could predict. Keith was anchoring himself so deep in his being with his smiles, his touches, that it just hurt when he did not have his full attention. Push away Shiro, people do not want you, they use you and disappear, they always do.

As the conversation progressed in front of him, he pressed his lips on his cup of latte. Ignore it, do not listen. Keith was a grown up, he could do what he wanted. Drinking slowly, he let the dying heat from his drink fill his mouth, barely savoring its creaminess.

\- Are you su...

\- I just answered you. Don't make me repeat myself.

Keith's quick movement made him look up. He observed, as the young man grabbed his friend by the nose, pushing him away roughly. Rolo whined, stumbling away with the offending hand on his thin face. He complained about Keith being too rough, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“ _Hell, you can rough ME up all you want.” Shiro_ mentally slapped himself at the intrusive thought. This was getting out of hand. Fuck.

They both argued in front of him, Keith seething and Rolo, hands up, trying to calm him down. Eventually, the young man leaned back on his chair, crossing both his arms and legs.

\- Leave. You're in the way.

\- Fine. Fine. But one last question, on a scale of 1 to 10, how bootylicious is your date? He looks high in your ratings.

Shiro's eyes widened, as a finger was pointed his way. Bootylicious? What did that even mean? Who USED that word anyway? (I do XP) Apparently this guy did. Shiro was about to laugh, when he caught Keith's eyes on him.

His mouth dried up at the darkness in his eyes. Oh... my god. He swallowed.

\- A solid 20.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

He died a little more inside. PUT IT OUT SHIRO. PUT IT OUT OR YOU'LL SUFFER A LONG AND PAINFUL DEATH.

\- Wow, congrats. Your fuck of this week is ace-on.

What? ... **this** week?

\- You might want to shut up now.

\- Honestly, last week sucked balls, he was like a 3. I mean, I swear, you should aim higher all the time. Sendak was a sad sad score. Did he even make you come? It did NOT look like he did the way you rant on about it. I definitely could have done better.

The demon in his heart lifted its head, grabbing his heart in his sharp claws and squeezed. Nails dig deep and more than blood dripped out. Shiro was not stupid, far from. He knew his diplomas did not mean he could read between the lines, but there were barely any lines to begin with. He called him “hot stuff”, he should have known... Fuck of this week.

\- ALRIGHT! I’m ways away from killing you now, making you suffer until you beg for it will be much more satisfying. Better keep a close eye on those sculptures of yours. Let's go Shiro.

Shiro barely registered it, when Keith grabbed his hand and forced him standing. He put his coat on and zipped Shiro's in a motherly fashion. Getting a tight grip on his fingers, he walked towards the exit, seething, while Shiro's mind kept expiring.

How could Keith want him, for him? They barely knew each other. Had talked for less than an hour all together. Shiro was an idiot. A complete, utterly hopeless, imbecile.

His skin felt soggy in Keith's hand. “ _Another thing to hate.”_ His feet dragging on the pristine floors of the coffee shop, their cups forgotten. “ _Wasting his hard earned money.”_ His monstrous body crowded the door as Keith pushed it open.

\- Hands off my stuff, twink!

Rolo almost screamed, making other patrons look up.

\- Hands off ME horn-dog.

Keith screamed back.

He was indecisive, too small for his ugly shell, a perverse, gloomy soul within a defective body. This was a mistake, but still he followed.

\- Are you sure you won't change your mind about what we talked about? I mean, I can make it worth your while.

The open wound stung, scorching his very being. He realized then how desperately he had hung unto the fleeting happiness of the idea of Keith. The idea of waking up next to him, arguing because he burnt his breakfast again or bicker about senseless details of their daily lives... colors of his tie... tv shows they would watch... where they might go on vacation...

\- NOT listening! You should learn to take no for an answer. Go jerk off to your girlfriend, fucker.

Keith ignored the cry of outrage as he finally let go of the door, his nails jabbing, almost ripping the skin of his hand appart.

The idea of him... crumbled. The most important piece falling to his feet and turning to dust. Shiro watched as they started blowing away, images of all the possibilities fading softly at the back of his mind. He kept a few in a small box, hoping to revisit them on better days. Bus rides. Kisses. Hand in hand.

His chest was wide open, bleeding out, mourning the loss of something he never actually had.

He walked behind Keith, who still held his hand steady. His anger was visible, clouding around his head as they ambled in the quiet streets. Eventually reaching a deserted wooded area, Shiro's mind finally muted by the peaceful environment.

A single thought popped in his head.

Ask Shiro. If you know what you are, you won't get hurt again. If you don't want it, you can just walk away and forget everything that as happened. Ask. ASK. **WHY AREN'T YOU ASKING?**

He forced the words out, his voice barely audible.

\- …is that what I am?

Keith's feet froze, grounding him on the spot. His hand tightened and his head barely turned, his soft curls brushed against his rosy cheeks. Shiro could not see his expression, his mouth hidden away under his small stripped muffler.

\- What?

Shiro swallowed. Ask Shiro. He pulled his hand away from Keith, registering the small resistance from the young man grip, before he let go.

\- Your “fuck of this week”. Is that what I am?

There was a small pause. Keith looked up at the sky, his breath filtering out of his lips in small clouds. He closed his eyes and opened them back up, exhaling softly.

\- I…

Keith paused again and finally turned around. He kept his head down, which seemed peculiar. Shiro knew him as this pushy, extroverted type of person, the kind that took what he wanted, how he wanted it and when he wanted it.

The young man seemed to think for a long moment, his bangs hiding his eyes. An apologetic smile appeared on his face as he finally answered, his eyes remaining hidden.

\- Look Shiro. I’m not usually committed okay. I have fun with guys I like, or like me when I’m less lucky. It DID start like that... you're hot. But you can... you know, walk away if you're disappointed. I know I'm trash.

Trash. He was trash? Was he?

Shiro was not sure what Keith's definition of trash was, but it definitely did not match his. The young man HAD mentioned having issues of his own, was this it? Were the views he had of himself so twisted he considered being a waste of a human being? That was something the older man could relate to, but he chose to ignore the comment and concentrated on something else.

\- …start like what?

\- Like I'd like to climb you up like a tree and leave when I'm done. I changed my mind?

Shiro almost laughed at that, his cheeks coloring. The young man's bluntness was becoming legendary.

\- You’ll have to elaborate. I'm not sure climbing me is a good activity worth so much of your time.

He chuckled some more.

Keith sniggered softly, scratching the back of his neck. He finally raised his head up, his dark-violet eyes searching Shiro's expression. Shiro looked back, finding a soft sadness, some pain and an insurmountable amount of regret.

\- I bet it actually is.

\- Please elaborate, Keith.

He paused again, opened his mouth, then closed it. His cherry lips twisted and he chewed down on his muffler, his eyes drifting left and right. Frustrated, he pulled the scarf down his chin and took a deep breath, resolved.

\- …I changed my mind! I mean, you’re kind of sweet and interesting. I barely know you and I’m realizing I actually **want** to get to know you better. That brain of yours is a major turn on, among other things. Which is a surprise. I guess you learn something about yourself every day huh. 'Cause... you know... anybody that would have said “lets get to know each other first”, I would have turned them down. But…

He hesitated, biting down his lower lip.

The young man was enticing, irresistible, while Shiro felt small and inconsequential in front of him. His own body was slightly turned away, probably betraying how he just wanted to run away, his nerves stretched thin. He grasped at his courage and pushed further.

\- But?

Keith's eyes rolled upwards in desperation as he sighed again. He mumbled.

\- Questions... so many questions...

He groaned in frustration, stepping forward. Reaching out, he grabbed Shiro by the waist and pulled him flushed against his body. His forehead pressed on the older man's collarbone. Shiro's heart did a somersault.

The older man's hands twitched. For some reason, Keith looked desperate and he wanted to engulf him in his arms to never let go. He held back, as he always did.

Keep pushing.

\- **But?**

-…but not you? I don’t know why. You resonate with me I guess. I can see how you suffer inside, it’s so clear on your face and it’s a little bit like a mirror. I see you in me. I understand that… I don’t want to be alone, like you probably do. I don't know how to explain it, since usually that would have made me ruuuun for the hills. But... you don't. Please don't make me explain more. I haven't strained that many words together in years.

The last few sentence were more of a growl, as Keith tightened his grip on Shiro's waist. His long fingers dug in his flesh, almost bruising.

Shiro laughed, his arms circling the young man's slender shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing his cheek on the top of his head, burying his nose in his untamed ebony hair. The faith perfume of his shampoo filled his nostrils, placating his injured thoughts. Cinnamon... vanilla... and something peppery. It stung lightly. He liked it.

Keith leaned into his touch, nuzzling his chest. He circled his arms around Shiro's waist, pulling him even closer, his leg brushing against Shiro's tights.

Humming, Shiro put his thoughts in order, categorizing his questions, discarding some and highlighting others.

\- What about Rolo?  
  


Keith growled again.

\- What about him?

Shiro pondered, wondering at how he could ask without sounding like a jealous teenager. Be direct maybe?

\- Is he... your... I mean... are you two...?

It was a babble more than a question. He had failed miserably at it apparently.

\- Huh. I didn't take you for the jealous type hot stuff.

He felt the young man smirk against the skin of his neck, as he chuckled, tapping his fingers on his back softly.

Shiro frowned.

\- ...it's hard to get jealous about a guy I barely know. This isn't what this is.

\- Right. Rolo is a guy a share my studio with, him and 7 others. Can't deny that he wants in my ass, but he's unwelcome. His girlfriend is sweet.

He was glad that Keith dropped the jealousy talk. He was not jealous. Could not be jealous. Would not let himself get... more... jealous... Aaaaah... fuck.

Another angle Shirogane, think of something else. The therapist said... if you can't get yourself out of a situation that wounds you, look at it through different eyes. Turn around, turn around, right. She's sweet, his girlfriend.

\- Girlfriend? And he wants to... with you...

\- Yep. Ever heard of open relationships?

Shiro nodded, he had heard, but was not attracted by the idea of sharing. He was greedy and wanted to own every single inch and part of things he could get his hands on. If that included a person, so be it.

\- That's him taking advantage of that.

The older man frowned again.

\- ...your world seems so much more degenerate than mine.

Keith laughed, patting Shiro's back in a friendly manner.

\- So tactless.

\- I'm just copying you.

His comment made Keith cackle loudly. He liked hearing Keith laugh and barely realized how the hurt he had felt just moments ago had tickled away, replaced by the now much more familar warmth

Happiness. He smiled.

\- …so NOT your fuck of the week then.

\- Unless you want to. And you know, be the fuck of every week until you get fed up with me.

Yes please, was the first thought that popped up in his head, but Shiro thought better of it. Push your needs away, find another angle, so he brought his hand up and caressed the unruly curls softly. His fingers dig deep as he scratched Keith's scalp gently. He could not help but smile, feeling content.

Keith let out a soft groan, tilting his head to the side. Shiro's response was an easy one.

\- Why would I get fed up with you…?

\- Because, that’s what people do.

Shiro hummed, here was something else he could relate to. People DID seem to leave a lot. He brushed his fingers through Keith's hair, thinking about it some more. Wondering about how he was and why he also had almost run away just seconds ago.

\- I guess they do huh.

\- Pretty much.

He had been scared. Possibly, most people felt the same and chose not to face the situation. Such a shame.

\- It sucks.

Keith snorted and laughed. His chin rose up, resting on Shiro's chest as he smirked, his eyes shining with glee. His cheeks flushed as his smile widened, a small canine peeking out at the corner.

What? What did he say now?

\- Heh, so do I.

Shiro's cheeks burned crimson as he pushed away the image of Keith's plump lips around his cock. That minx, he knew what he was doing and it was WORKING. Ah damn it... _Body, if you dare to REACT, I am going to make you SUFFER later._

\- …honestly?

\- Oh yeah, I’m really good at it.

Oh god.

Shiro seriously considered doing an extensive search about how one's body could self-combust at the simple words of an attractive young male. If there were similar cases, he wanted to know about them, because he was not certain he could deal with the entirety of what ever Keith was without any kind of help.

The sharp pang he felt behind his bellybutton still unfurled in his guts, all the blood from his body rushing downwards to a single point, his manhood responding immediately at how Keith's lips glistened when he licked his upper lip. Fuck. Don't be a teenager Shiro.

Pushing his hips away, he was fully aware of how his body had ignored his command and refused to let it show anymore than necessary. Think of something else, galaxy formation, the theoretical possibility of a white hole, red stars and... red lips... and... a wet.... warm tongue...aaah...

He swallowed, monumentally failing at his attempt of control.

\- T-That’s not what I meant.

Shiro yelped when Keith grabbed his ass, pulling him back flush against him. Both their crotches pressed together, hard. He could not help but groan under the pressure. Self-control, Shiro... you need to learn self-control.

\- I know, but it's still true hot stuff.

Apparently, Keith did not know about patience or self-control. He grabbed Shiro's chin and pressed his wet lips on the corner of his mouth, his tongue licking it softly. His hips rolled once against Shiro's as he swallowed the gasp he emitted, opening his mouth in response.

Shiro felt cold when he immediately stepped back, digging his fingers into his coat and taking out a crushed pack of cigarettes. He took one out, placing it between his perfectly shaped lips.

\- Want to take a walk?

That no good... cock teasing... fuck...

A breathless “okay” was the only answer Shiro could give, as he stepped up besides the young man.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this took SO LONG to be updated.  
> I was supposed to do this in the week-end, and got caught up in some anatomy practice. Then on Monday... but my favorite fanfic writer requested some drawings... and I just COULDN'T SAY NO. Oh gosh.
> 
> Anyway, I am in vacation this week. I'm hoping I am able to write at least another two chapters. If it's even POSSIBLE. (Because I want to draw too T_T)
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblrrrr X3  
> seiteki9.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is getting more comfortable with Keith.  
> Keith is getting less comfortable with Shiro.

The next few days passed in a haze. Keith having to work on his art commission, while Shiro resumed his days of teaching at the Garrison. As strange as it might seem, his mind always felt more at ease when he was within his office space. The rules were rigid, but it was an environment he recognized from his days of normalcy. Those less stagnant days when he had not been broken.

He enjoyed being called “Sir” by the younger generation. It was duplicitous, since they were ordered to do so, but he could always pretend he had value in their eyes when they did so. He appeared useful, wanted. It made him want to spend time at the Garrison, even his current position was far from what he had wished as a career. His days of teaching still progressed in a leisurely, but enjoyable manner, by shaping up kids to become strong dependable adults. He was proud.

With the newly added pleasure of exchanging texts with Keith, Shiro was in heaven.

Their texting was the usual ribbing within standard friendly chatter. Light and comfortable, the kind of chatting he could do while he worked.  
  


 

_Keith [18:42] “Sleep is overrated HS”_

_**Shiro [18:44] “How so?”** _

_Keith [18:55] “Id rather sleep WT men then next to them  
1st more enjoyable”_

_**Shiro [18:56] “Oh god, why would you tell me this?”** _

_Keith [18:59] “U seem like a comfortable men 2 sleep wt  
I thought wed covered that already”_

  
They talked about anything and everything, how they both lived their lives, their friends, what they liked to eat the most, or how they might spend lazy evenings.

 

_Keith [10:07] “Mac? How can THAT be ur fav?  
I swear, ur $$LOADED$$ Id believe filet mignon being closer 2 ur standards than THAT orange goop”_

_**Shiro [10:10] “ (Loaded?!) That's because you haven't tasted the Garrison’s macaroni and cheese. It's a piece of art.”** _

_Keith [10:42]“Dont bother trying 2 make me taste it  
Its the same in and out the fucking box”_

_**Shiro [10:45] “You have no taste Keith.”** _

_Keith [10:46] “Well knowing how u look like_  
I think I have GR8 taste  
Dont u?”

 

 

Keith liked b-rated movies apparently, he found them hilarious, and Shiro loved to read sci-fi novels. The mundane details mixed up with the excitement of their first two meetings, filling his heart with a warmth he had never encountered before, or at least not at that magnitude.

 

 

_**Shiro [22:59] “I bet you laugh at me all the time. You're actually a closet jerk.”** _

_Keith [23:13] “AH!!1 No Im a plain jerk and unashamed 2b  
U just know my sweet side better”_

_**Shiro [23:15] “I think you spelled horny wrong there.”** _

_Keith [23:26] “LOLLL So u CAN be funny huh  
I like u more and more.”_

 

 

Surprisingly, Shiro found talking with Keith to be effortless. He was astonished at how the young man found the time, within his busy schedule, to talk with him. He usually kept his sentences short and to the point, unless he was teasing, which he did more often then not.

 

 

_**Shiro [9:00] « I don't understand what you see in me most of the time. You look like this hungry lion, just ready to pounce. I feel like I should run away. Do you have a prosthetic arm kink I should know about? Because outside of that, I just don't understand the appeal of me.»** _

_Keith [9:12] “Yes Nah Not it.”_

_**Shiro [9:13] “What is it then?”** _

_Keith [9:41] “U sure u want 2 ask via txt”_

_**Shiro [9:45] “Well, I am curious and I'm not sure I would be able to live with the answer face to face knowing how you deliver information.”** _

_Keith [10:08] “Cant say I disagree wt that statement.”_

_**Shiro [10:20] “So?”** _

_Keith [10:50] “What can I say HS... ur overall persona is attractive not forgetting how mature u are_  
Weve been talking a lot in the past few days and I c more and more of how intelligent and kind u r  
It does THINGS 2 me  
But 2 be quite frank  _ I love big dicks and I cannot lie  
_ _So dont disappoint k? <3”_

_**Shiro [10:52] “...I've never been so right in my life. I'm going to go die now.”** _

_Keith [10:53] “ (*≧ ▽ ≦ )_ _ﾉｼ_ _)) ”_

 

 

The older man’s mind might have expired the first time he sent a selfie, his face full of paint, grinning up at the camera, all alabaster skin and eyes deep pools of endless mirth. His shirt's neckline might have been too low, or maybe it was how his long fingers pushed his bangs away from his face. The fingers that had kindly put the gloves on his prosthetic, the ones the curled around his jaw when they kissed. All and all, he loved the entire project and could not stop himself from putting it in the background of his cellphone.

During these few days, he got more used to the young man’s forwardness, even if it still made him crimson all the way to his ears.

 

 

Keith [14:12] Shut up or Ill call u Daddy again HS.

**Shiro [14:18] Please don't. I feel old enough as it is, with my white hair and scar on my face. I look twice your age.**

Keith [14:25] Stop with that. Ur hot.

**Shiro [14:28] I believe you are the only one who thinks that. So you might be wrong there.**

Keith [14:45] Fuck it. Ur a beefcake. And Id totally eat that.

**Shiro [14:53] Omg, please stop. I don't even know what being a beekcake means and I'm not certain I can stand your definition of it. And using the word “eat” is a bit...**

Keith [15:01] Deal with it, these r simple truths HS. Simple. Truths.

 

 

When he got the invitation to join him at his studio to celebrate him “finally being fucking done with this stupid piece of shit art”, he agreed wholeheartedly. He was told to just “walk in”, that the others “would not care”. He still stopped in front of the door, eyeing the list of artists that were sharing the room:

  * **Acxa**

  * **Keith**

  * **Lance**

  * **Lotor**

  * **Nyma**

  * **Pidge**

  * **Plaxum**

  * **Rolo**

  * **Shay**

  * **(Vacant - for rent)**




…no last names?

He frowned. At least he recognized Keith’s name. Gently pushing the door open, he stepped in silently. The large studio had probably been an old loft they had repurposed into a sharable space. The large windows let in plenty of natural light and it had been separated in 10 evenly spaced areas, with a small kitchen near the entrance. He looked around registering the smell of paint, ink and glue in the air, with the sound of typing and soft music in his ears. A few of the presently on site artists looked up, some on computers, an other working with crystals, another with... chalk? Most barely registered his presence, going back to work, while others nodded. His gaze scanned around the room and locked on a face he actually recognized, the azure-eyed boy, which was stationed on the far left. He had black headphones on, head bobbing to the music blaring in his ears, his olive skin contrasting with the white hoodie he was wearing.

Shiro stepped forward, remembering Keith’s instructions.

 

_Keith: [15:54] “My studio is @ the end, near the windows. Cant miss it. Its right next 2 Lance.”_

 

Shrugging, Shiro figured Lance must be that young man. The area next to his desk was a closed off space. It was surrounded by high bookcases, their tops filled with buckets of various unknown substances, piles of canvases, some white, some filled with colors, and other objects Shiro could not identify. Keith was an artist, the set up made sense.

Lance looked up when he passed by, possibly noticing the movement or maybe his nose had picking up the food Shiro was carrying. Recognition flashed on his fine features and he grinned, then tilted his head towards the studio in question and nodded softly. Bringing his head back down, he started typing furiously on his keyboard, the look of concentration back on his young face.

Entering the space, Shiro registered the strong smell of paint thinner tickling his nose. Keith's small section of the studio was crowded with a desk, a futon, a table and 4 easels, all supporting large pieces of vibrant art. Shiro stopped and examined them all careful, he found that he liked Keith's art. He wondered if he was being biased. The floor was covered in a thick plastic tarp, stained with various colors of paint or even glue.

Keith was slumped down on the ragged futon, his black shirt riding up, and his bellybutton showing. His hair was an unabated mess, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly opened. He was asleep. The older man could not help but smile, as he rested the bag of food on the small stained with even more paint glass table in front of the young man. He sat down softly besides him and leaned forward, pressing his lips on his forehead.

When he retreated, Keith was staring back at him, his ashen skin shinning under the morning light and violet oceans reflecting Shiro’s own affection vividly. It made Shiro jump and blush, a bit ashamed of being immediately caught in the act.

\- Hey.

Keith grinned, exhaustion visible on his beautiful face. He brought a hand up, motioning with his finger for Shiro to lean forward again. The older man did without pause, his warm lips enveloping Keith’s softly. He parted his mouth immediately, his tongue pressing on Keith's gently, lovingly, while the young man caught his jaw within his cold fingers, holding him in place. Their kiss was drawn out like a lazy Saturday morning, lost in a bubble while the very idea of time seemed suspended between dream and reality. There was warmth in his belly, a tingled trill in his spine and a buzzing comfort in his mind, as he pressed deeper within the young man, his groan mixing up with Keith’s humming. Oh god... he was getting so attached to this youngster, it was dangerous.

Finally letting go, Shiro smiled softly at Keith, his cheeks flushed and eyes a little glazed.

\- Hi. I missed you.

Humming happily some more, Keith pushed himself up on his elbows with a smile on his face.

\- I can see that Hot stuff. Never thought you’d kiss me first so soon.

Sitting besides him, Shiro took his hands gently helping him sit up. His blush still apparent on his face, he pouted softly.

\- Ah well… you looked beautiful. I figured you wouldn’t mind it if you had been awake. Besides, it was just your forehead...

Licking his lips, Keith smile turned into a wicked smirk.

\- Not anymore.

He leaned unto Shiro’s shoulder, sliding a hand on his stomach, making the butterflies rage in its depts. Hesitating for half a beat, the older man extended his arm and circled the lean shoulders, pulling him closer. For a moment, they just cuddled, happy to be in one another’s presence.

Shiro wondered at that moment how he could be so comfortable with someone he barely knew. Well, they HAD been chatting a lot and he HAD be hitching to get his hands on him, to hold him close. He figured he should listen to himself some more. Keith clearly did not feel like complaining.

Keith eyed the bag on the table, his eyes half closed. His voice was a mumble, sounding strained.

\- …that food?

\- Yes.

The young man pouted and sighed, closing his eyes. His body was pressed against Shiro’s larger frame, barely holding itself up. His fingers remained on his lower stomach, the touch light as he grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, pulling softly.

\- You didn’t have to. We could have called for take-out you know.

\- No need now. Besides, you look exhausted and hungry. It’s the least I could do. Want some?

Keith frowned looking up at him.

\- It’s not mac is it?

Laughing, Shiro released himself from Keith’s hold, leaning forward. He grabbed the large paper bag, pulling it on his knees.

\- No, it's not the only thing I eat. Besides, I think Hunk would kill you if he heard you compare his cooking to macaroni and cheese. 

Fiddling in the bag, he took out a warm steamed bun, handing it to Keith, grinning. Taking it, Keith eyed it suspiciously, his gaze crawling back to Shiro’s face. His eyes narrowed, his stared unbelieving.

\- I promise It’s very good.

Visibly doubting the older man’s ability to actually like regular tasting food, Keith finally shrugged. Opening his mouth slowly, he was about to bite down when somebody else rushed into his space.

\- IS THAT FOOD! I SMELL FOOD!

Lance’s long lanky legs had him cross the artist’s small studio in two steps, stopping besides Keith. To both their surprises, he grabbed the food in Keith’s hand and just stuffed the entire thing in his mouth shamelessly, chewing soundly.

Keith blinked shocked, than frowned and raised an eyebrow, waiting for Lance’s reaction, which was almost immediate. His clear azure eyes lit up. He brought both his hands to his cheeks as they flared up in visible pleasure.

\- Oh WOAH! This is… like… REALLY GOOD. Where’d you get this? Damn, I need to ask in marriage who ever made this. She's possibly my soulmate, the futur “Misses Blue Lion”. Can I have another one?

Shiro mouthed to Keith “Blue Lion?”, while Keith answered just as silently “Artist name”.

The look of awe on Lance's face was palpable as he approached the table to steal some more food. Keith grabbed the bag before he did, clinging to it jealously. Lance’s cry of outrage was totally worth it, as Keith fetched food from the bag, biting down on the warm bun hungrily. He slumped back down against Shiro’s shoulder and sighed happily.

\- …this IS really good. So hungry...

\- Told you. Did you just use your friend as a guinea pig?

Keith chuckled, eating some more, but did not answer. He lazily extended his arm, patting Shiro’s leg gently as a show of comfort.

Lance loomed on top of them, visibly offended. He tapped his foot, trying to reach for the bag again, but only succeeding in ripping a small corner.

\- HEY! Come on Emo Tea! SHARE!

Keith shrugged, eating some more.

\- Shouldn’t you be asking Shiro about that?

Within moments, two cries of outrage and more ripped paper, Shiro was caught in the frenzy of Keith and Lance battling over the food like a wake of vultures. Pulling on the bag until it ripped completely, leaving one half in Keith’s hand the other, with the logo of the bakery, in Lance’s and its content on the sofa and Shiro’s lap.

The head of two girls popped at the entrance of the small studio, curious gazes watching the bickering.

Shiro sighed, picking up the food slowly as they kept arguing loudly.

\- Look what you’ve done now. You’re wasting food!

\- Well if you KNEW how to share, this wouldn’t have happened!

They both crossed their arms, forehead pressed together in a not so silent battle.

The screams were starting to give Shiro a headache. He must have blenched, because one of the girls approached him, crouching down. She grinned, her blond heavy braids falling on the table. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes scrutinizing every corning of Shiro’s body. The vibrancy of her eyes only added to her peculiarity. The color was so unnatural, a bold magenta, which must have been colored contacts, he found her more alien than anything else. His unease at her boldness made him shrink back. He smiled faintly at her.

\- Huhmm…

\- Your new catch is not your type Keith.

Shiro blinked. Not his type? Oh no, Shiro did not need to start feeling inadequate. Did she find him horrifying? She must be. Her eyes were so… Oh no, please stop looking.

She didn’t.

Did I put my gloves on. I think I did. I can't look down... she'll... I...

Her comment made the bickering stop. Both Keith and Lance turned to her, Lance amused and Keith annoyed.

\- What’s THAT supposed to mean Nyma? You don't think I have good taste? What’s my type according to you?

Lance snorted and answered before she could.

\- Trashy?

That deserved him a kick from Keith, as he growled and snapped a few insults at him, barring his teeth like an animal, while the other girl gasped. That did not seem to deter Nyma however, she leaned forward, stretching her unusually long neck like a lizard.

\- I’m so curious to know how you got this one. I mean… the last one was SOOOOO interesting. The bus thing… and how you wanted to jump him the second you saw him sitting there. I swear, if I had your imagination, I’d get any fuck I want. Standing beside him and waiting for a bump in the road… hilarious…

She laughed as she turned towards Keith.

Shiro listened to her, the situation dawning on him. So Keith had talked about this…? He turned his gaze towards Keith, disbelieving.

\- You’ve got a flare for the dramatic that’s for sure. Did you ever fuck the guy? The way Lance was talking about it, he must have been hella HOT for you to leave your number like that. Don’t you usually take theirs? I mean, I understand the tactic, makes sure they won’t call when you get tired of them.

No, apparently Lance did.

The girl kept chatting in a clear voice, her hands moving in sync with her words as she went on and on. Keith’s blush raised like boiling water, he opened his mouth, ready to scream at her, and closed it when he caught Shiro’s eyes on him. Turning back to her, he screeched. Usually Shiro would have jumped at the sound, but the situation was so fantastic, he savored every second.

\- SHUT UP NYMA!

Keith turned back to Shiro, probably taking in how the older man rose both eyebrows. He then opened his mouth again like a dead carp, possibly hoping to explain the situation, and finally turned around, hiding his face in his hands muttering something that sounded like “oh my god… kill me now...”

\- Ooookay, that’s when we leave. I got what I came for anyway. Thanks for the food and bakery’s name Shiro! Your friend is mine now!

\- His name is Hunk, Lance.

\- Guy huh? Well, can't pick and chose. Not that it matters to me. Come on ladies.

Shiro nodded, eyes still fixed on Keith’s lean frame.

Lance fetched one of the warm buns off the table, pulling Nyma’s hand so that she stood up. He pushed her out of the small studio.

\- What… but… Lance?

\- Better shut up now pretty girl.

She complained some more as she waved lazily at Shiro while being pushed out of the space, still slightly pouting. Shiro heard them talk as they walked away. “Wait, was that him? The bus guy?” “Yep.” “Ooooh. Oops? Spilled the beans huh.” “Good job, it was hilarious. You get an award for fucking Keith over. Total gold.” They all laughed, even the girl Shiro hadn’t spoken to. Keith stomped his foot groaning. “Hey Shay, mind selling me one of your rings? I have someone I need to ask in marriage today.” “Sure. What kind of message do you want to send?” “Like eloquent affection for anything food related.” The laughter and chatter didn’t really die down, but the buzzing of it turned into a pleasant background music.

That’s when Shiro had to give up, he collapsed against the futon and just started uncontrollably chuckling. Wow, he had been had, tricked by this young man. Terrible. Unbelievable.

\- …wanted to jump me the second you saw me sitting there…

He laughed some more, turning his face against the fabric on the frayed furniture. How couldn’t believe he had actually thought the entire situation was an accident. Orchestrated, planned. Keith had been clearly dedicated to it.

\- …waiting for a bump in the road…

He slid against it, finding himself on the floor, openly laughing, hands on his face to try and muffle the sound as much as possible. Shit, he almost smashed his head against the window, he must have really WANTED this.

Keith sat roughly on his lap as he was still laughing.

\- Stop laughing!

He slapped his hands away from his face. Shiro’s eyes watered, overcome by how hysterical the entire situation was.

\- …hella hot…

Shiro snorted and laughed even louder.

Slamming his fists against his chest, Keith whined loudly, almost crying at how he had been caught. He hid his face into Shiro’s shirt, pulling at it, pleading for him to stop.

\- Stop LAUGHING. I’m going to kill you! Oh my god, I have THE WORST FRIENDS EVER.

\- I like your friends.

\- I DON’T! And I hate YOU too! SHIT!

Shiro chuckled some more, finally resting a hand on Keith’s head and caressing his messy hair gently. He grinned, his cheeks flushed in pleasure.

\- So, you really think I’m hot huh?

Keith looked up, his face a deep crimson. His eyes narrowed.

\- …yeah…

\- Well thank you. You are not so bad yourself.

Shiro cocked his head to the side and smiled. (Like a thousand watt smile. Shiro smiletm)

\- …you know… I really like you Keith.

Keith stared at him, raising his head up higher. He furrowed his brows, which made Shiro wonder about what he was thinking.

\- Alright, that’s it.

He leaned back down, opening his mouth and biting down, immediately catching Shiro’s right nipple under the fabric. Shiro yelped, clasping a hand on his mouth again before he actually moaned. Fuck.

\- I’m having my revenge like, right now.

Blinking in surprise, Shiro widened his eyes, blushing furiously.

\- What revenge?

\- A revenge blowjob.

Keith trailed kisses on Shiro’s body, even though he was still wearing his clothes. He did not try to open his shirt, nor did he try to slide hands under it. He did, however, trickle his fingers along his ribcage, sending waves of pleasure down to Shiro’s groin. He groaned.

Shiro scoffed, trying to make sense of the young man’s practiced fingers and mouth. Well that had been a sudden turn around, now that he minded.

\- Since when is a blowjob a revenge?

\- You’ll see once you cry for me to stop hot stuff.

Keith's tongue dipped under the fabric of his pants, licking the soft warm skin. It made Shiro's breath itch and his heart stutter.

Shiro thought about stopping him. He remembered how he had told Keith he wanted to get to know him better, but when the young man pressed his soft lips against his lower stomach, he realized he did not care. They had met a few times, had chatted on text messages, and would have probably talked on the phone if he hadn’t been so busy. He wanted this; he wanted this so badly, he let it happen.

While Shiro had a conversation with himself in his mind, the young man’s dexterous fingers made short of the button of his pants. He unzipped them and mouthed at his manhood above his boxers, pressing his warm mouth as low as he could.

\- …may I…?

The question was an acknowledgment to what they had agreed on, which Shiro appreciated just as much as he did his mouth. He exhaled a soft “Oh god… yeeess…”, his body responding readily to Keith’s touches as his back arched slightly, trying to get his pleasure bone closer to the young man's warmth.

Keith pulled on the boxers, releasing the beast. He made a pleased sound, grasping it with a strong hand and kissing it softly.

\- …well… aren’t you a sight for sore eyes… <3

Shiro growled.

\- Oh god, don’t TALK to it.

That made Keith chuckled as he brushed his lips along Shiro’s length, keeping his grip steady at the base. His mouth reaching the tip made Shiro gasp so loud, the young man had to claps his free hand on the older man’s mouth before he sunk in.

Shiro’s body responded immediately, arching even deeper. There were no words that could explain the levels of pleasure he felt during that perfect moment in time. A single second where nothing else mattered. No words. Not a single sound.

The entire experience was heat, starlight and a wet tongue slithering across his cock, sucking him for everything he owned. Those lips pressing, his teeth nipping, his mouth taking him in even further than he might ever believe and that marvelous tongue, coating him in saliva, desire and the belief that nothing in the world had ever been so perfect.

He might have felt ashamed if he had registered how he was moving against Keith’s ideal mouth, how he was pushing his member in between rosy lips, saliva dripping down his chin and mouth making filthy wet sounds.

His orgasm was so Earth shattering; it made him remember what he had missed all these years. Especially when, after swallowing everything, Keith did not let go, sucking him even harder. Shiro gasped, and wept, Keith’s hand still on his mouth, pushing fingers in to muffle the sound. His large hands gripped at Keith’s hair, he cried as the young man pulled a second frenzied peak out of him. His eyes rolled back, toes curling so tight they hurt.

It was another type of relief when he was finally able to pull the beautiful young man off with a whined shout.

\- STOP!

Holding Keith’s head in his hands, he frowned down at him, he cheeks flushed, fingers trembling and member throbbing.

\- You… just… stop…

His words ragged, panting, overwhelmed by everything. He stared at Keith, only made more attractive by the red staining his cheeks, the glossiness of his plump lips and disheveled hair falling above his violet eyes. Shiro finally let go of his face, flopping back down on the ground, arms up above his head. He closed his eyes.

Keith chuckled and crawled up his chest, pressing his hard-on against Shiro’s softening cock.

\- Well, now everybody probably knows what we’ve been doing.

Shiro snorted.

\- Ask me if I care later. You heathen.

Keith laughed some more.

Shiro tagged this day as a good one. A good day to try something new.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oh god, don’t TALK to it."  
> Is my favorite line in the entire thing.
> 
>  
> 
> So yeaaaaaaaaah, I'm sorry it took so long to update.  
> I've been doing TOO MANY THINGS?! Working, writing, drawing, making comics?! So eeerrr... yeah, sorry. XD  
> So, how many chapters am I making of this? I HAVE NO IDEA. It's my feel good fic.  
> Also, updated the tags.
> 
> Hope you had a fun read  
> Comments and kudos are loved. 83
> 
> Come holler at me on tumblr @ seiteki9  
> Ciao my lovelies. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nap goes a long way.

Shame had that unabashed way of crawling back to you…

After having put himself back together, jewels tucked snuggly back in, Shiro let his thoughts wonder for a few minutes. His large hand pressed on the young man’s smaller frame, his heath radiating through the fabric of his clothes. There were many things Shiro might have wanted, felt he needed, especially as his head slipped back from cotton to a more regular state. The realization of what they had done was a mix of shame, embarrassment and deep satisfaction.

Pure ecstasy he had not experienced in a long time.

He let the shame wash over him as Keith nuzzled against his neck, his warm lips slowly sliding along his heartbeat as he hummed. His tone was low mixed with a satisfied rumble, which Shiro did not understand. How could Keith be happy when he had given without receiving anything? How long had it been? Was it too late to give back? Did he want to give back…?

Shiro pondered for a while, his head tilting towards the youth in his arms. Keith’s hands were light on his stomach, his fingers clutching the thin fabric of his shirt as his lips stopped their slow ascend along his neck.

He did. He did want to give back.

A little panicked at his delayed reaction to the intimate moment they had, he backed away quickly and turned around.

\- Keith, I…

His mouth hung open when he took in Keith’s content expression, his eyes half-lidded, smile tugging at the corner of his rosy lips. The young man’s response was a questioning hum as he blinked slowly, clearly feeling drowsy.

\- …Keith… would you like me to…

The question hung in the space between them, pulling a small laugh from the young man’s throat. He leaned back against Shiro, pressing his nose in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

\- Naw, m’tired right now… d’you mind if I sleep for a bit…?

\- N-no, b-b-but…

Anxiety gripped at Shiro’s core, its dark ink filling his lungs and pushing a nervous laugh out. He had reacted too late. It was over, wasn’t it? Oh god. Oh no. Oh please, do not let it be over. What should he do? Was there something he could do? Should he have complied more quickly? Young people were quick, weren’t they? So Keith was… Keith is… disappointed in him… he must be. He had to be. Shiro was fed up with himself all the time. It only made sense. Ruining a relationship that had barely started, only he could be so clumsy to th…

A light slap to his face startled him and made him look down. Keith was staring up at him, at grumpy expression on his face.

\- Hey, would you STOP that. A revenge is a revenge, you don’t get to say thank you when it’s supposed to be a punishment. Got that?

Shiro hesitated, not certain he understood Keith’s logic. He was the worst, he had to be. Keith had climbed on him so many times; there was no way he would refuse.

\- I…

Keith pinched his cheek roughly.

\- Did you get that?

\- Yes. No… I’m not sure…?

Keith gripped Shiro by the shoulder and rolled on top of him, his hard manhood digging at Shiro’s lower stomach, it made Shiro’s breath hitch and a small wave of pleasure warmed his body. The young man DID want him then…?

Keith settled comfortably on top of him, resting his head under the older man’s chin.

\- You didn’t do anything wrong. I actually WANT you to be on top of me, or vice versa, very much. You worry too much.

Rubbing his head against Shiro’s jaw, Keith sighed, pressing his hands on Shiro’s pecks.

\- …you’re really comfortable…

Circling Keith’s waist with his arms, Shiro stared at the ceiling for a few short moments. His mind trying to solve the puzzle of the situation he was in. So… he had gotten a blow job, without asking, a… “revenge blow job”

No. He really did not understand.

\- …you want it… but not now?

Keith made an approval sound, his body relaxing on top of Shiro’s as he started caressing his back with slow strokes of his human hand. The young man, pressed against his body more firmly, his body curving under the touch, growling.

\- I don’t understand. Usually people expect something in return.

Keith grunted, his palms twitching. His answer was a growl and a mumble as he was clearly fighting against sleep.

\- I’m not “people”, I’m me, and me doesn’t expect anything from anybody. Ever.

He didn’t expect anything from anybody… that statement felt… lonely. Shiro turned it around in his head, wondering how Keith’s reasoning might have reached this point in his life. Who had let him down that he decided never to expect friends, lovers, family to reciprocate his feelings? Was the explanation part of the young man’s issues? What could be so terrible that he’d be so detached at such a young age?

Not that Shiro was really that much older…

He sighed, sliding his prosthetic along Keith’s lean frame and scratching his scalp softly. He bend forward, kissing his forehead softly.

\- Alright… later then.

Keith hummed again, his fingers tightening slightly on his chest and releasing almost immediately.

Holding him strongly with two arms, Shiro stood up (Thank god for squats right?) and slumped back down on the futon, sitting Keith on his lap. The young man met the entire process with an annoyed whine. He humphed, sounding annoyed, snuggling even closer.

\- …did you just stand up without the help of your hands with me in your arms?

\- Yes?

Keith grinned, eyes remaining closed, his voice a whisper.

\- …wow… I could feel your abs contract and everything… that’s really hot… why’s that so hot…?

\- Weren’t you sleeping?

Looking up, Keith’s starry gaze locked with Shiro’s, the exhaustion was apparent on his fine features. He mouth was turned down into a pout as he glared at the old man.

\- I’m TRYING but you keep doing these things… and it keeps me awake… and horny… and god… I’m so done right now…

He closed his eyes back down, yawning, his eyes watering. Shiro chuckled, kissing him on the nose and holding him close, pressing his face in his unruly ebony mane.

\- ...you smell so good…

His answer was an even louder growl. Clearly, the young man was becoming impatient.

\- And you taste good. Can I sleep now?

Shiro let himself fall to the side, cradling Keith in his arms, as the temperature of his body rose with the steady reddening of his face. He laid the both of them on the futon, tangling their legs together.

\- …right… yeah… sure… sorry… g-go ahead…

He could feel the stretch of Keith’s smile on the skin of his neck along with his warm breath. His skin tingled softly.

\- ...you’re weak hot stuff…

\- Shut up, pest.

The young man chuckled before finally drifting off his lips pressed against Shiro’s collarbone.

The hours trickled by slowly, while the youth slept soundly. Shiro did not mind nor care. He enjoyed the buzzing of Keith’s fellow artists as they worked, chatting, moving in and out of the studio. The sun slowly drifted down as the room blissfully emptied, leaving the two of them alone in their warm embrace.

He did not notice when the last artist left the room, nor when they closed the lights. Shiro had long since closed his eyes and was humming, enjoying how his mind felt clear. Usually, his thoughts were always clogged with insecurities or dark happenings, but Keith’s presence was, yet again, a soothing balm.

Keith’s hand sliding along his arm was the only notice he got that the young man was awake. He, also, was starting to drift in and out of sleep and did not mind when Keith’s warm mouth brushed against his own. Parting his lips, he folded his body over the young man’s, accepting the touch with slow enthusiasm. The exchange was deep but sedate, their tongues pressing against one another, exploring the other’s mouth, licking sensitive spots with measured strokes.

Keith’s grip was firmly holding him in place, not caressing, or touching. His chest rose in synch with Shiro’s as their breath mixed, hitching in between soft panting and low moans or growls. Their lips glide together unhurried but strong, taking in the subtleties of the other’s taste and response, wrapping them in this perfect moment hoping for it to never end.

But it did. It had to, in the most brutal way.

It was a simple noise, but so sudden, loud and coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once, something metallic… _LIKE HELICOPTER BLADES_. It sipped into Shiro’s hazy brain, ripping him out of his comfort like a dying scream in the middle of the night. His entire world went haywire with splashes of vibrant colors, screams, voices and flashing images. There were no feelings but pain, anger, fear, betrayal, guilt… so much guilt. A guilt so fierce, it pierced and split his head wide open.

_He screamed._

He needed to protect, hold tight, hide away. He did not care if he was injured or dead, someone needed to be protected, be saved. He would give anything, everything for that person to live free. His entire being would probably never be enough, but it was all he had to give. He wasn’t enough… wasn’t enough…

He was barely aware that he was breathing, his eyes locked open, unseeing. A rumble against his chest made him twitch. A question… someone was asking a question.

The sound was muffled and so far away, he strained to understand.

Question again.

_Sh... C… … … uch... ou?_

The sound was a little louder, barely a whisper. Not insistent. Not screaming. Just asking.

_Shiro. Can I touch you?_

What a strange question? Who would want to touch him? Who wouldn’t find him disgusting? In the middle of this terrible accident, all the blood, the fire and his arm really HURT.

_IT HURT._

Shiro groaned, clutching his right arm. A sob escaped his lips as his fingers curled around the metal. It’s gone. It’s gone. He knew he hadn’t been enough. He was so useless.

The voice kept talking to him. The older man’s vision started to clear, adapting to the darkness, a small figure was looming over him, but he could not see who it was.

\- Shiro. I am going to touch you okay?

Shiro grunted a response and nodded. A soft hand pressed on his shoulder and caressed him slowly, going down his back and up his neck, cupping his cheek tenderly. Grounding. His vision cleared some more as he made out the silhouette of the young man leaning on top of him. His eyes were a vibrant violet and his free hand was hiding the bottom of his face. Strange…

\- Shiro… do you remember where you are?

He looked around, taking in his surroundings, bookcases, the smell of paint, canvases, the futon… This was… Keith’s studio. Why was he on the ground…?

\- Keith?

\- Yeah. I’m right here. Do you remember where you are?

Shiro growled, leaning towards the hand that was still brushing against his face softly. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

\- Studio. Your studio.

\- Good. Here… you need to eat something. I’ll get you some water.

The older man snorted, pushing himself up in a sitting position. His head felt like a heavy piece of lead weighted down by a hodgepodge of screams, aggressive colors and prickling guilt.

\- I don’t…. I’m not hungry.

Keith let go of his face and pushed a squishy round bun in his hand. He then rested his hand on top of Shiro’s, his other never letting go of his own face. That… was strange.

The bun was not warm anymore, but he recognized its softness. Hunk’s bun. He knew it was delicious. He just… did not want it. He felt like he did not deserve it. Besides, his stomach was tied up in knots, he probably would throw it all back up in a second.

\- Come on Shiro, take one bite. Just one. For me? Please?

Shiro looked down at the food in his hand. He sighed. Then back up at Keith. He twitched when the glare of the young man’s cellphone resting on the glass table caught his eye. He wanted to throw it against a wall and destroy. Offending. He swallowed the almost inexistent saliva in his mouth.

For him… take a bite.

He sighed again.

\- Okay…

Keith stared at him as he pealed the wrapping open and took a small bite. He nodded, clearly happy and stood up.

\- I’ll be right back. Please eat some more if you can.

The young man disappeared in the darkness. The sound of water barely reached Shiro’s ears as he forced himself to bite down again. His jaw hurt, his throat was dry, his fingers were stiff… he recognized all the signs. An attack, a severe one. In front of Keith.

Shit…

He felt mortified. If he had the strength, he would have left right this moment, but that was not the case. Sitting up had taken everything from him already and staying in an upright position was exhausting.

He heard Keith’s steps approach again, which prompted him to take another bite off his bun. It hurt…. But, at least, it tasted good.

The young man sat back down next to him and smiled. Shiro stared at him, finally registering why he had been hiding his face. His nose was… it was swelling. There was blood on his shirt, which he had clearly tried to wash away, but had failed.

\- Y… your nose… did I…?

Keith pushed a glass of water in his hands, still smiling.

\- Drink.

\- Keith…

\- I said drink. Don’t worry. We fell off the futon. It wasn’t you. So please, have some water.

The young man seemed to be struggling with something, like he was forcing himself to act a certain way.

Hesitantly, Shiro brought the glass to his lips and took a small gulp. The water washed down his throat, soothing the sandpaper scratching at it. He closed his eyes and took a sip again. When he opened them back up, Keith had the phone in his hands. His thumb was pushing upwards, scrolling down something. He frowned and looked up at Shiro, his fine face illuminated by the blue light.

\- Are you feeling better?

Shiro nodded slowly.

A relieved breath escaped Keith’s lips; he crawled up to Shiro and leaned on his side, wedging his head against Shiro’s neck. The older man circled his waist with his prosthetic arm and pulled him closer, mindful of his own state. He felt better when Keith was close to him. Putting the glass down, he picked up the bun again and bit down, not speaking again until he’d eaten the entire thing.

\- I’m sorry…

Keith shook his head.

\- Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I thought I told you that already.

Shiro’s chuckled was forced and exhausted.

\- Yeah. You did.

Keith was still looking at his phone’s screen, which seemed odd. He had never done that before, usually focusing his attentions entirely on Shiro. The old man frowned, looking down at the phone in his hand, flinching at the light.

\- …what are you reading?

Keith looked up at him and stared for a short moment. The cogs in his head were visibly turning. He shrugged.

\- Listen… I get that you don’t like to talk about this, but… it’s this huge elephant in the room. So… I’ll have to address it. You have PTSD.

It was not a question, just a fact. Shiro had PTSD.

His response was a loud grunt. He looked away. Fuck.

Why did he always think people did not know about it? It was so stupid. People always noticed it. He was so broken and damaged.

\- I did not know how to respond. My first thought was to slap you but… Anyway, I didn’t want to react wrong and I was worried that I might… so I looked it up.

Worried. He had been worried.

\- I… I’m sorry.

Keith sighed loudly. He dumped his phone on the futon and turned around, crawling on Shiro’s lap. He rested his hands on his arms, looking up at him, his eyes a turmoil of emotions left unsaid. His nose looked huge in his face. Oh god. That looks like it hurts. The older man’s gaze turned away in shame.

\- Shiro. You need to stop apologizing about things you have no control of. It’s annoying. Usually I’d get mad. I am mad. I just… stop. I don’t want to get upset with you. I don’t want to baby you. It’s not what I am. So stop. If I hear “I’m sorry” again today, I think I’m going to throw myself out a window.

That made Shiro smile slightly. He looked back up and lifted his hand, resting it on Keith’s cheek.

\- ...your nose…

\- It’s ugly. I get it. It’s fine. It’ll heal, it’s not broken, just bruised.

Shiro nodded slowly. Just bruised. Just bruised. Not broken. Thank god. Thank god.

He pulled the younger man in his arms, hugging him tightly. He wanted to scream, cry and laugh all at the same time. He wondered if there were any solutions to what he was. Hadn’t he already done everything in his power to get better? So why… why wasn’t he? WHY WASN’T HE?

He wanted to cry, but he did not. He took a deep breath, which sounded like a sob, but didn’t let it take him over.

Keith pressed his fingers against the back of his head, scratching his scalp softly. They stayed like this for a few long minutes until Shiro was back to breathing normally.

\- Can I ask you something?

\- Yeah.

Keith hesitated for half a heartbeat.

\- I know… this probably isn’t the right moment to ask and not my place but… Why don’t you have a service dog?

It was Shiro’s time to hesitate. A service dog?

\- I’m not blind.

Keith sighed heavily, threading his long fingers threw Shiro’s hair, probably trying to keep him as calm as possible.

\- We both know that service dogs aren’t just for blind people.

Shiro pushed him away, grabbing his wrists so that he would stop. His gaze turned to ice, as he took in the young man in front of him. So… he WAS this kind of person after all, wasn’t he? The type that just KNEW how to cure him. The kind that could just answer EVERYTHING like it was easy. A service dog.

Shiro rolled his eyes and scoffed.

\- I am not an invalid either.

There was an edge to his voice. He was insulted, annoyed. He should have known, people always wanted to get INVOLVED and cure him. Had he gotten himself another Good Samaritan? He did not need that in his life.

However, Keith did not seem worried. He looked more sad then anything else. He released his wrists from Shiro’s grip and took his hands gently.

\- That’s not what I meant. I think it might help. He could do things for you and be good company. I mean, I’ve only met you 3 times and every single time you…

If Keith hadn’t been sitting on him, Shiro would have left at that very moment, but he was stuck. Or was he?

\- Don’t.

It’s not like Keith was dangerous or hard to push away.

\- Shiro.

His fingers went rigid in Keith’s grasp, not returning the touch. The older man resolved to push Keith away verbally.

\- I said don’t. If it’s a problem, you just have to say it, I’ll just to leave.

\- That’s not what I said.

As hard as he could, to a point that he almost screamed.

\- WHAT is it then?

Keith leaned forward, not minding his intonations. He rested his forehead against Shiro’s, his eyes baring into the other man’s. His answer escaped his lips digging in deep into Shiro’s heart, like a warm blanket.

\- …I just want you to feel safe.

Shiro should have felt shame at reacting so badly, but he only felt love. Pure love.

\- ... I…

So much love he did not know how to react. Should he be happy? Should he be offended that Keith did not trust him to know what he needed? Did he know what he needed? Maybe he did not. Maybe he was wrong. Was he?

\- What are going to do if something happens and nobody you trust is around?

Well… maybe he felt like sulking just a little bit.

\- I’ll deal with it.

He was a child. An overgrown child.

He pouted staring back at the young man as if he did not want to loose the battle, even if there was not any.

Keith sighed, unlocking their stares and leaning forward. He laid his head against Shiro’s shoulder, letting go of his hands and circling his neck with his arms instead.

\- Alright... Okay… A little too personal for me to get involved. I get it. But, I care about you Shiro. I’ll say it again, I just want you to feel safe.

He cares about me.

Oh.

He does not think he knows everything about my condition. He just…

He cares about me.

**Oh.**

Shiro’s heart expended, reaching the size of a galaxy. Stars being his feelings, planets his shortcomings and Keith right at the center, pulling him in his orbit, burning bright.

\- Just… think about it okay.

\- …ok.

Shiro knew then. He just knew how much he cared about him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL... that took forever.  
> I have nothing to say. I'm just... so sorry. I had a rough week.
> 
> I had to look up how to help someone with PTSD. I'm not sure if it's totally accurate. I did my best. So did Keith.
> 
> Kudos and comments are loved.  
> Come scream at me on Tumblr @seiteki9  
> Love you guys. <3


	7. Chapter 7

A thousand things might have made Shiro cry to this day. Usually, details about himself, what he had done, what he could have done. He never blamed anybody for his own faults and dealt with them accordingly. However, this feeling… the warmth, how is heart filled out to the brim almost overflowing, was overwhelming. Keith’s touch was too light, he wanted more, so much more. Keith was his new addiction, so he held him back, tight.

Exhaustion made him slump heavily on the young man’s shoulder, who grunted in return. He shifted slightly, holding him differently so that he would not fall over. Keith pressed his lips on the soft skin under Shiro’s ear and kissing him lightly.

\- Want to go home?

His left hand scrolled down his spine slowly, offering a comforting touch, making Shiro even more uncoordinated inside. He sighed happily.

\- …don’t think I can drive…

\- I can do it. Want me to bring you back?

Shiro tensed a bit. That was… a hard question to answer to. He really wanted Keith to come to his place; he wanted to share with him more facets of his life if possible. He wanted him in it; he wanted to see small pieces of the young man around his room, another toothbrush in his bathroom maybe, sharing the space, cluttering it with his dirty clothes, or a forgotten pair of shoes, coloring the cold loneliness of it. He wanted it badly.

Sadly, it was difficult. He was not living alone. There was Matt. Matt who did not like sudden change.

\- You… I’m sure you could. But I can’t… it’s…

Keith slowly backed away. It was evident he was trying to school his reaction into something accepting, but he was visibly hurt. He smiled sadly.

\- Don’t want me in your space just yet?

Shiro gripped at Keith’s hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Explaining was so exhausting and he did not want to do it. He just… he needed to sleep. His head felt so heavy.

He sighed heavily, no caring how bad it might sound especially with their current conversation.

\- That’s not it… I would like you to come, but I… can’t right now.

He felt his body sag even further, trying to pull him into sleep.

\- Hey… it’s fine. How about my place? I’m telling you now though, I live with Lance and it’s a dump.

His answer was slurred as he was fighting sleep. Come on Shiro, wake up! You cannot sleep here. Not here. Here is unsafe. It is noisy. Keith got hurt here. He wanted Keith out of here as fast as possible. He needed to protect. Protect what was important to him. Keith was important.

\- S’fine…

He felt Keith stand up, walking away, making some random noises Shiro could not register. Finally kneeling back down, he hoisted Shiro up, forcing his larger body to lean against his smaller frame, pulling his coat on top of his shoulders awkwardly. Shiro was surprised how steady he was under his weight, his grip strong. The older man was lead out of the room and found himself in his own car without remembering how he got there. The engine was purring as he cracked his eyes open, lights changing from yellow, to red, then green, making Keith’s skin glow beautifully. He wanted to look at him, just stare and examine every line of his young face. How his eyelashes caught in his messy hair, the perfect curve of his (now bruised) nose, his defined cheekbones… the taste of his breath in his mouth.

He wanted him so much.

So much.

He wanted to be closer to him. To touch him.

Warmth.

He smiled softly when he heard Keith humming at the music on the radio. So much warmth.

The rest of his evening was a blur. He distinctively remembers pulling his gym bag out of his car’s trunk, changing and falling on a bed that was not his own, then everything went black.

A dreamless sleep.

He woke up leaning on his left side, light filtering through brown curtains with holes. He brought his right arm up with every intention of brushing his hair out of his face, but caught nothing. Looking down, he realized he had taken the prosthetic off at some point. Oh.

He felt dirty, sweaty and his mind over stretched. His eyes were digging deep in his pounding head and a distant buzzing was resonating in its depths. Urgh… bad night. How was he even able to sleep?

Rolling on his back, he stretched, his body curving to the side and then the other. As an answer to this, there was a hum at the end of the bed and a small tap on his leg. Flesh against flesh.

He froze, looking down. Keith was sitting there, in sweatpants and a red tank top, legs hidden under the blankets. Shiro could feel Keith’s feet tangled with his own. The mere thought of it made his heart do a small summersault. In his hands, the youth held a sketchbook and was scribbling furiously.

\- Don’t move. Just a sec hot stuff.

Shiro blinked, surprised. He stopped breathing all together, his muscles becoming rigid in surprise.

\- Huh?

Keith’s eyes flicked up and down and he bit down on his lower lip.

\- Don’t move. Wow… I can see every line… that’s some body you have.

Shiro turned crimson at that.

\- HUH?!

He felt nailed down by Keith’s gaze as he hungrily studied his body, carving the image into his brain and transferring it to paper in steady lines. After a few moments, he looked at his sketch and grinned.

\- Fair enough. It’s not even close to the real thing, but fair enough.

He put the book and his pencil down and crawled on top of Shiro, stopping only when their face were leveled. The older man felt a strange kind of void when their legs untangled, only to be replaced by his embarrassment at having his beautiful date almost sprawled on his body.

\- You slept 10 hours. Feeling better?

Shiro nodded slowly, not sure if he was allowed to bring his arms back down. Hesitating, he slowly did, still puzzled by what had just happened, dropping his left hand on Keith’s lower back, while his stump flopped uselessly down on the bed. He tried not to think about it, or about the angry scars checkering his skin up to his shoulder.

\- I… more or less?

Keith reached up, caressing his square jaw, scratching his light stubble with sharp nails gently.

\- Shower? Food? Something else?

His physical reaction to “something else” was immediate, the temperature of his body rising suddenly and his face shifting to a deep shade of purple. His entire upper body soaking in the color eagerly only putting emphasis to his current mood, not speaking of other physical reactions. Keith’s eyes widened while his smile stretched slowly, splitting his face in half.

\- Wow. Just like a kettle.

Keith’s laugh was pure sunshine, his head flopped down on Shiro’s chest and his body shook. The older man could feel its rumble inside his chest, sending pangs of need in his heart, in his body. He lifted his right arm (well half of it… ANYWAY), hiding his face with it and tried to turn side ways, mortified.

The young man pushed up, wedging his head under Shiro’s chin, his mop of hair successfully tickling his nose.

\- I guess you want to pay me back huh.

He chuckled some more when Shiro growled as an answer.

\- As much as I want to say yes, hot stuff, I think you should take that shower and have something to eat. You look like you spent the entire night fighting fever. You’re still exhausted. After you’ve done all of that, you can pay me in triple copies if you want.

The young man sat up, straddling Shiro, his ass pressing on his stomach.

\- Here. I brought you water and some pills. Sit up.

Peaking out from under his arm, Shiro looked at the young man, sitting on his lap (yet again). One hand holding a glass of water and the other pills. Even now, his skin was shining under the golden glow of the morning light sifting through the curtains. Shiro opened his mouth, meaning to answer, but different words worked themselves out.

\- …you’re really gorgeous…

Oh right, is that what you’re going to do now brain? Ignore my commands and just do what the FUCK you want? How about some filtering there? I mean seriously, THANKS for saying what I was thinking without my input. Thanks A LOT.

Keith gaped in surprise, his cheeks blossoming with tinges of pink.

\- I… what?

He laughed nervously.

Shiro coughed and abruptly sat up, making the young man squawk while he almost fell on his back at the sudden movement. He moved back, resting back on Shiro’s legs, his face a twisted mix of nervousness, embarrassment and wonder.

\- Sorry. Ignore that.

Taking the glass of water and the medication, Shiro swallowed it all in one go, hoping that would be enough for Keith to give up on what he had just said.

Keith was still staring at him when he gave the empty glass back. He seemed to battle with himself, trying to find something to say in return.

\- Thank you, and you are right. I will have that shower, if you don’t mind.

The young man’s perfect lips puckered into a pout, his cheeks still flushed. He shook his head, possibly deciding on giving up in replying to the compliment.

\- I offered it.

Standing up on the side of the bed, he patted Shiro’s hair fondly after wedging the glass in the clutter of his side table.

\- I already took a shower, so take your time. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll be in the kitchen and Lance isn’t around either. Second door to the left when you get out of here. ‘kay?

Tilting his head into the touch, Shiro finally nodded slowly.

\- Okay. Thank you.

\- No prob. Laterz.

Sliding his hand off Shiro’s head, Keith’s fingers brushed lightly against the side of his face. He smiled softly.

Finally, spinning around, the young man stuffed his hands into his pockets and sauntered out of the room. Shiro watched how he slowly dragged his feet, lightly bumping the doorframe with his shoulder as he walked out. So young, he looked… so beautiful… too perfect… Shiro wondered how he got so lucky.

After looking around the room, small, cluttered with dirty clothes, art supplies, he forced himself to stand. His body protested loudly, his shoulders and neck stiff, his head throbbing. His heart panged, pushing the extra mile just to keep him standing, everything was a chore, he really wanted to just lay back down and sleep some more, but he was not home. He could not have a lazy day locked up in his sterile bedroom. Pushing himself, he stepped forward, ignoring the pain.

Within the hour, he had taken a shower, was dressed in the remaining gym clothes he had in his bag, texted Matt to tell him he was still alive (- _Oh good, I thought the Mothman might have finally eaten you! – What do you mean FINALLY?!_ ), had swallowed a warm meal and crashed down in the living room on the comfortable leather sofa. A movie was playing on the small television while Keith snuggled to his left side. The soft fleecy blanket on their laps kept them warm and the young man did not seem to mind Shiro’s head on his own.

Shiro wondered how they had found themselves in front of a movie, especially when two words kept nagging at him and reducing his attention span to zero: _something else something else something else something else something else something else something else…_

He had not noticed, but about halfway through the movie, his leg started bouncing nervously, his mind reeling, his body vibrating with need. Keith’s light hand stopped the movement, pressing in even closer.

\- What’s the matter?

 _Shit,_ _I’m an_ _animal_. He wanted him so badly, after initially asking him to wait, he felt like a pig. Fucking imbecile.

\- N… nothing, just… ignore that. My body is just being ridiculous. It happens. Especially after an attack like that. I…

He was babbling. Oh god, he was babbling. Please stop talking mouth.

\- Yeah it’s fine. Ignore it.

Just… SHUT UP.

Keith’s hand pressed harder, moving up a few centimeters. Shiro swallowed, every nerve of his body completely aware of the young man’s presence, the curve of his hips, how his chest rose and fell against his arm, the smell of his hair, the feel of his legs next to his own. He closed his eyes, trying to rein it in, and failing.

\- Shiro?

He took a deep breath. He needed to be better. He needed to be smarter. One mention of it being okay did not mean Keith still wanted it. _Do not be a pig Shiro, and don’t be that kind of person._

\- Shiro!

_Oh god I am a failure. I should go back home. I had a severe attack, busted his nose, probably bruised something else and he had to make me feel better by saying it was nothing. It can’t have been nothing. He did not have these kind of feelings, while I am a broken record._

**\- TAKASHI!**

He felt his ear pulled and his body bent to the side in surprise. _What?_

Turning his head, his eyes locked on Keith’s, who seemed annoyed. He raised an eyebrow.

\- I… what?

\- Are you with me?

He swallowed again.

\- Y-Yeah? Did you just call me by my first name?

Keith frowned.

\- I did. Just learned it, thought that might work. Did you just have an out of body experience? What is wrong with you?

Shiro’s head shifted to the side a bit, his eyes tilting to the movement. He could not believe he’d been so ridiculous that Keith had noticed. Should he apologize? Probably. _Wow. What an idiot._

Keith sighed and tapped his cheek lightly.

\- Shiro. Come on.

Shaking his head to get out of it, Shiro forced a smile.

\- Sorry. Yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry. I… zoned out. What do you mean, you just learned my first name?

Keith smirked lightly.

\- It was written on your gym bag, you never told me, like I never told you my last name.

He hadn’t?

\- Oh.

Shiro thought about it for a moment and realized that was true. Actually, MATT had told Keith his name. That made him feel even more ridiculous.

\- Wow. I am really sorry.

\- Will you stop apologizing! I’m counting, you’re already at 12 for this morning alone. I’m getting ulcers from it. Now, tell me what’s wrong!

Shiro recoiled at the question, ashamed of his own body, of his very apparent needs. He was not used to get his way. He always adapted to what others required, quelling his own necessities to make people around him happy. When people were happy, they did not ask questions about what made him uncomfortable. When people were happy, they did not scream, or glare, or stare. He found that it worked well for him. That is… until something made him fidgety. Like Keith’s body…

And now… Keith was upset… and he was not sure why. So… what to do to make him happy? Swallow it up, definitely.

\- Nothing I… must be a set back from yesterday. I am fine. Totally fine. Completely fine.

He laughed nervously.

Keith frowned deeply.

\- Wow. You’re a really bad liar.

 

The young man sighed, shaking his head. He reached forward, grabbing Shiro’s shoulders and pulled himself on his lap. Pressing their chests together, he circled Shiro’s waist and locked his hands on his lower back, fingers just shy of exposed skin. He smiled softly.

\- Tell me what you want.

Raising an eyebrow, he waited to see what Shiro would answer.

His violet stare kept the older man latching unto it. He opened his mouth, trying to find words, air, anything that might make noises that made sense, and failed. He chocked. Looked to the side, trying to find an escape route, but his body’s needs pulled him back roughly when Keith’s fingers pushed down and slid under the elastic of his belt. The gorgeous man's smile turned devilish.

\- Tell me. <3

As a form of defense, Shiro brought both his arms up to hide his face. He soon realized he hadn’t put his prosthetic back on. Mortified, feeling both ridiculous and exposed, he used his left arm to hide his eyes, so that he would not see Keith’s reaction.

\- ...something else?

The young man’s reaction was a soft chuckle before he leaned forward, pressing his warm lips against Shiro’s.

\- With pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this took so long for me to write, not only did I have a hard time with it, but I've been going through a real rough patch lately.  
> Also it's slightly on the short side... =(
> 
> Hope you had a good read.  
> Next chapter will be about THE GOOD STUFF TM.
> 
> Peace out
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr @ seiteki9.tumblr.com  
> Comments and kudos are love. =)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Good Stuff TM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah... ahahahah  
> Wow that took forever, I am so sorry.
> 
> For those still reading, I love you.  
> Also thanks to Saasan for the help, without you I would have posted a very unsatisfying chapter.

Without a word, Keith hopped off Shiro’s lap and walked to the front door sliding the security chain on. He turned slowly around, leaning against the wood and smirked with a glint in his eye. Shiro figured his puzzled look must have pulled the low chuckle from the depth of the young man’s throat.

\- Now… we can’t have Lance witness this, can we?

The older man couldn’t help but flush a bit. Ah, no. He wasn’t into exhibitionism, so add a few more locks if you can, thank you very much.

He shifted uncomfortably under Keith heated gaze, hoping his body language wasn’t too transparent. That look fed his need for proximity and warmth; he could feel his entire being surrender as the young man stepped forward like a leopard stalking its prey. Stopping in front of him, Keith knelt down, resting his hands on the older man’s knees and sliding up slowly, giving him a knowing smile, his eyes soft, concerned.

\- So… should I take the lead, hot stuff?

Looking away, Shiro tightened his left arm around his stomach, suddenly feeling anxious. He could ask, couldn’t he? Keith’s question was simple, far from innocent, but very clear in its meaning. So… he should really ask…

\- I…

He paused, swallowing thickly. Did he want to lead, or did he want to be driven to ecstasy…? No. He wanted to be taken care of, not to think, just to feel. He wanted… god did he want… he wanted so badly his mouth gave the answer before his brain could even formulate a coherent string of words.

\- …yeah. Please.

The young man’s smile immediately turned into a sinful grin. He licked his lips, leaning forward and kissing his forehead softly. His breath was warm, his skin soft as he hummed in a low raspy sound.

\- I should be the one saying please. Come on.

The gentle grab and pull of his hand was all he needed to stand up, almost staggering after the young man as he walked decidedly to his bedroom. The door was pushed closed without a word and Shiro sat down on the edge of the bed, nervously watching Keith pull the curtains, barely letting any light in.

The young man walked up to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder and the other carded softly through his short hair, scratching his undercut fondly.

\- Shall we put your arm back on?

His physical reaction was immediate, a wave of frozen dread and shame shooting up his spine, making his shoulders suddenly lock, his pupils shrinking into tiny dots as cold sweat gathered at the base of his neck, threatening to roll down his back.

Shiro felt his mouth drop open and a dry whimper emerged from the darkest places of his being.

Keith smoothly grabbed his face with both hands, resting his forehead on the Shiro’s. His smile was still soft and caring.

\- Takashi… it’s okay. Take a deep breath. I’m saying this for your comfort. If you don’t want it on, it doesn’t change anything to me. I love your body as it is, with or without the prosthetic. I really do.

Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the words pierce through his fogging mind. Tension seeped out of his pores in waves when his brain caught on their meaning. Keith didn’t care. He didn’t mind. It wasn’t a problem.  _ Keith doesn’t think I am lacking. He doesn’t think I am damaged.  _ Forcing himself to repeat the two sentences like a mantra had a calming effect.

Ok… everything was ok.

Shiro reopened his eyes, their gaze locked. He could almost feel it in his chest when Keith cautiously whispered his next question. His tone was warm, understanding, infinitely patient.

\- Now… what do you want? Your choice. Take your time.

Still unable to make a sound, Shiro nodded in response as he tried to hold back the tears, the screams and the need to just crush this young man against his chest and never let go.

Keith helped him put the prosthetic back on as if the task was as simple as tying up shoelaces, a natural occurrence that wasn’t alien at all. He then was gently pushed on the bed, while light fingers remained pressed on his metal arm as a reassurance. Shiro could barely feel the pressure as Keith traced the line of the unfamiliar tech to finally reach the sensitive skin of his arm. One digit travelled up his arm, over his shoulder, not minding or tracing the scars, lingering on the length of his neck to finally push his chin up.

The young man met the rise of his jaw with warm lips. They glided on his own unhurried and soft in a deep slow kiss, the kind that made Shiro’s eyes roll backwards and his toes curl. A low groan escaped his throat without his approval, heating up his face with a deep blush. The loud insistent whine when Keith eventually let go was, however, ten times more shameful.

Keith’s face was barely visible in the dark, but Shiro recognized the wide stretch of his mouth as he chuckled mischievously. Warm palms skimmed across the white fabric on his chest, wishing for skin contact, but moved along his ribs as the youth bent forward brushing his mouth along his jaw, his neck, collarbone and ultimately lower, grabbing fabric with his teeth playfully.

When he stopped for half a beat, Shiro realized how he was already panting, his chest expanding in needy breaths, his eyes clouded and half-lidded. He was glad for the darkness, because he knew he must already look completely wrecked with arousal from a few simple touches.

\- Keith…

Another chuckle.

As a response, the same warm hand reached for his left cheek, anchoring him as Keith leaned back down, his perfect lips latching unto one of his nipples. Swiping his tongue slowly, he dampened the fabric of the shirt, not caring about the barrier as he kept licking, sucking, softly biting. It was a numb feeling at first, mildly pleasant, until the first bite. A maze of electric currents expanded along his chest, enticed by Keith’s unrelating attention.

On the scale of how satisfying it was, he hesitated between, “ _ please more _ ”, “ _ bite down harder _ ” and “ _ fuck I hope you are willing to give me hickeys on my entire body _ ” (hard choice).

He couldn’t help but look down, his prosthetic hand grasping Keith’s neck as he weaved strong fingers through the messy hair. That made the young man look up, letting go at the same time, his eyes darkening, threatening to swallow him whole. He had to divert his attention, unable to stand the passion nearly paralyzing his body. So he swallow with difficulty when he caught the vibrant reddened skin of his nub peeking out, saliva turning the fabric almost transparent.

He should be ashamed, shouldn’t he? Wanting someone this young. ( _ He wasn’t that young really... _ ) Wanting to be taken care of, cherished, loved even. ( _ Everybody wants this! _ ) Wanting to forget, for his mind to turn blank, to be pushed into the mattress so hard he would cry… ( _ Ask… ask… ASK! _ )

His grip tightened in dark hair, his free hand hiding the expression of pleasure softening his features as Keith attacked the second nipple. There was a moan, as Shiro’s body curved under the attention, a pant, a growl, and finally a garbled request...

\- Skin…

Keith’s answer was a simple questioning hum, as he sucked harder on the puckered skin, clearly enjoying every second. His hand were gliding along his ribs and his spine, exploring the new curve with glee.

\- Keith… p… please… take it off…

Pausing, Keith looked up, seeming insecure.

\- Are you sure?

Shiro swallowed thickly again, his throat was dry. He was unable to answer for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he finally nodded slowly. Yes. Yes he was sure. He wanted this, he WANTED it so badly it hurt.

_ Mantra. _

Everything is okay. Everything would be okay.

\- Yeah...

He wondered how to prepare himself for the worst.  __ What if he ran? What if he turned away? 

_ Keith wouldn’t judge. He wouldn’t judge… Keith was good, kind, sweet. He was perfect, absolutely perfect. _

But he knew he wouldn’t. Keith wouldn’t do this to him.

\- Yes. I’m good. Just don’t...!

Blocking his reply, warm lips covered his own in a sweet embrace, forcing them open and licking inside with unhurried practiced swipes. The slow caress of the desirable mouth appeased his mind, like the rolling sound of waves on a deserted beach. He felt his body’s tension release, his muscles unknotting with screaming relief.

Their lips were almost glued together, when Keith reluctantly pulled away. He pressed another kiss on the corner of Shiro’s mouth, speaking softly against the skin with a baritone type voice he’d never heard before. Shiro felt his breath hitch.

\- Don’t worry Takashi. We’ll take it slow… slow… slow...

Shiro could smell the perfume of his shampoo and taste the tang quality of his skin. He didn’t need to put a name on the senses, he just knew he adored every single one of them. That’s when he let go. His head turned to the side, exposing his neck and his hand relented his grip on Keith’s wild mane. The older man slid his fingers down to small shoulders and lower on the young man’s spine, making his body roll sensually against his palm.

With another hum and a small laugh, Keith pulled his own tank top off, throwing it in the corner of the room with practiced laziness. He then grabbed the hem of Shiro shirt and instead of taking it off, slid his long fingers under it. As they moved upwards, so did the fabric. He stared at the peak of hipbones, the start of strong rows of abs and a bellybutton which he attacked like a starving man.

The dip of a tongue in his navel had Shiro almost expiring, his body responding eagerly to the touch. Hands kept pushing the shirt upwards, as Keith kissed every inch of skin he could reach with reverence fit for a deity. The large scars didn’t slow him down, as he nipped, sucked and bit on some of the most sensitive parts of his body. Lining his ribs with his tongue, tasting his nipples, and kissing so many of his scars, Shiro felt the stinging of tears at the corner of his eyes. 

Straddling him, Keith pulled the shirt off Shiro gently, resting it close to his pillow and smiled. Feeling self-conscious and helpless, the older man grasped at the youth’s hips in a touch that would definitely leave bruises later. Keith didn’t seem to mind. His smile stretched even wider.

\- You are so gorgeous Takashi.

Keith leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the lips and soothingly on the scar disgracing his face. His nose traced a line along his cheek, his warm breath a tickling sensation rising goosebumps as he caught an earlobe between his teeth and sucked gently.

Loving. Caring. Good.

So so  _ good _ .

Shiro couldn’t hold back. A wrecked sob escaped his lips as he felt the weight of Keith’s lean body on his own. A smaller hand grabbed his prosthetic one, entwining their fingers and squeezing softly. The grip stayed strong as warm kisses travelled down his heated body and stopped just below his navel.

The older man could feel the metaphorical seams of his body strain under the care. The certainty of a burning, even violent, first coupling had been on his mind. Since he worked with the young generation, he knew how they consummated their love like supernovas. It was a sudden explosion of fervor, combined with flailing limbs, moans and screams that resonated sometimes outside of private quarters. It was a spark, an incandescent sharing of lustful emotions which usually almost immediately died out.

He had braced himself for it.

He had braced himself for something that apparently was not meant to happen. 

Not when Keith pushed him deeper into the mattress, or when he slowly took off the remainder of their clothes, or even when slicked fingers dug into the meat of his tights before being driven deep inside of him.

At times, he might have remembered the pleasure building inside his groin under such ministration, how his body quivered under the warm touch of long thin fingers, the sloppy kisses on his burning skin, but it was Keith’s approach that destroyed him.

_ Loving. _

Shiro quickly found himself on his stomach, ass up, legs spread lewdly with Keith over him, fucking him slowly with his perfect fingers. He was glad to be able to hide his face in his arms. He didn’t want the young man to know how he was unable to stop the tears from staining his face, the warmth expending his heart just pulverizing his entire resolve. 

He didn’t want to fall in love. But he did.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. But he sure hoped he was.

Between painful cries and silent (as he could make them) sobs, he was pleading. Half of it didn’t make sense, while the other half he would find pathetic when he could connect the dots again.

\- Keith… please.... Oh my God… please ngh… please please…

Keith had been incredibly tender and it’s with that same compassion that he slowly pulled his fingers out, leaving Shiro with abject emptiness that made his entire lower half ache. He let out a loud cry, whimpering when the young man leaned over him.

\- Shh… I’m still here Takashi. I’m still here.

He heard the rip of foil and the sound of a bottle opening again, while Keith was still able to kiss between his shoulder blades, his mouth a beacon in the darkness. He dragged his teeth slowly along Shiro’s spine as he moved back down, his left hand holding his hips solidly.

\- Take a deeeeep breath. I’ve got you. You can relax… relax...

Shiro sobbed out his name, feeling like he might be unable to breathe. But who needed oxygen when his soul had found his other half?

Keith pushed in slowly, letting Shiro’s body accommodate the intrusion with patience. Stretching his legs as wide as he could, the older man thought he WANTED to be wrecked, used, abused. How wrong had it been.

Thankful… that’s what he felt. The slow and shallow push and pull of Keith’s cock inside of him, the light burning sensation and tingling pleasure dancing up his spine. The young man was making him climb to the edge at leisurely pace. Frustrating,  _ but so fucking good. _

His body clenched in desire as he felt the young man’s manhood press deeper and deeper, until he bottomed out. Stopping, Keith exhaled loudly, while Shiro marveled at the fullness, the heat, the stretch.

He wanted more.

So much more.

So he pushed back abruptly, taking instead of waiting. The only answer he got was a loud gasping groan and an unforgiving dig of nails on his hips. The sting of piercing skin intertwined tightly with feelings of pleasure, wrenching a loud moan out of Shiro’s mouth.

_ Yeessss... _

Keith proved to be a demanding lover. Refusing to pick up the pace, he pushed Shiro down and digged deep. His hands gripped his hair and his shoulder, his legs locking the older man in place with strength Shiro never knew he possessed. He felt muscles strain under a new kind of abuse as his entire body focused entirely on the delicious intrusion.

Shiro growled and moaned, demanding for more, pleading, crying as he climbed the slippery slope. He wanted to push back, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t? He was most definitely stronger but… Keith…

Oh my God… Keith…

_ Shit. _

He gripped at the blankets on the bed, knowing his body would never fight back. Mentally, and physically, he wanted this. He needed to be beloved, ruined in beautiful ways and this young man gave him everything he wanted. This person he barely knew. His angel. His calming sea. His love.

Climbing... Slow and steady...

_ So in love. _

Peering over the edge. Unsure. Seeing absolute beauty at the bottom.

_ Mad with love. _

He wondered about the lies he was imagining, it was just for a flash, but Keith grabbed his hand, strong, grounding. Their fingers linked, a squeeze, a brush of the thumb. Leaning forward, the young man whispered in his ear, his voice husky and deep. His ruination.

\- Come for me babe… I’ll catch you.

_ Death by love. _

His body erupted, his vision turning white. He heard a loud moan, which could have only been his own, as pure ecstacy skittered across his skin. Warmth bloomed violently in his groin from inside and out turning his legs to jello. His body curled and bent, searching for the pressure he kept receiving unrelentingly from Keith. Drool rolled down his chin, his spent spattering on the bed with complete disregard. A mess.

Bliss peaked again, a tad on the oversensitive side when Keith growled against his back. He cursed out loud, while Shiro cursed inside for the condom that was blocking him from being filled to the brim. A pleading whine escaped his lips. He wanted. He wanted.  _ He wanted _ .

His body finally gave up, falling forward.

Then darkness.

He figured he must have passed out when his eyes creaked open. He was laying on his side, his prosthetic arm gone.  _ (Good…) _ He felt clean, warm, a fluffy blanket caressing his hypersensitive skin. A solid wall of heat was glued to his back, a strong arm around his waist, soft lips kissing his neck gently.

Another hand brushed his hair back, massaging his scalp. He groaned.

\- You awake?

Shiro sighed, feeling light. His head wasn’t buzzing. He was floating. He closed his eyes again and smiled softly.

\- How long was I gone?

Keith tightened his grip around his waist.

\- Just ten minutes. You ok?

\- Yeah…

Resting a hand on top of the young man’s was easy, it felt right, so he did it. He rubbed his thumb on his knuckles, basking in the afterglow, the infinite love he had found. He hadn’t been this happy in a while.

A blissful peace.

\- I can’t believe you made me wait for this hot stuff.

Shiro snorted, patting his hand and turned slightly, catching the dark gaze pinning him on the spot.

\- It was just a week. Was it so hard to wait?

Keith’s fond laugh was a slow rumble he felt bubbling against his spine. The young man kissed his neck again. Simple adoration.

\- Heck yeah, I’ll be high on the orgasm for at least a month now. Who needs drugs, you know.

Scoffing, Shiro nuzzled him on the cheek softly.

\- Let us not make you wait too long next time then.

The young man chased his lips, demanding a kiss which he deepened immediately. Shiro closed his eyes, answering the affection without pause.

Love.

Love. Love. Love.

So so in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat with me on tumblr @seiteki9 or on twitter @repeateternity
> 
> <3<3<3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unraveling chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update so soon? -gasp-  
> I think I have about 1 chapter, 1 epilogue left. I'm putting it as 11 here, but I'm not sure if I'll separate them yet. (I'm bad at planning things)

Shiro quickly realized that his life naturally started gravitating more and more around Keith. The young man had a very flexible schedule ( and body ), and even though the older man was staying away from the studio at the moment (due to previous events), he was always able to drop at his apartment after a quick call or text message.

 

**_Shiro [10:58] “Can I come over?”_ **

 

_ Keith [10:59] “Sure. Whassup HS?” _

 

**_Shiro [11:01] “I’m not feeling too well…”_ **

 

_ Keith [11:01] “Can’t sleep?” _

 

**_Shiro [11:03] “It’s eluding me yeah…”_ **

_ Keith [11:03] “Door is unlocked.” _

  
  


He would drive over, occasionally receiving a call from a drowsy Keith, filling the silence in his car with his raspy voice and meaningless conversation. It was comforting.

 

Without a sound, he would step into the apartment Keith shared with Lance, a closet sized 4 rooms dwelling, and sneak into the dark bedroom. Snuggling against the warm body of the young man, he never stopped to wonder about this relationship, only basking in it. Keith, in return, would bury himself into his arms, complaining about cold feet and wandering hands, only to tighten his grip on him giving up warmth willingly. They would tangle legs, at times chat until the sky lightened up or just pass out, content with the mere presence of the other. His favorite nights, were the ones when Keith was awake enough to take him apart, their bodies almost melding into one another until Shiro couldn’t even remember his name.

 

In other treasured moments, Shiro marvelled at the ease with which Keith reached out to him. He received messages at any hour of the day with ridiculous requests or to demand that he come over, even if the young man KNEW he was busy.

 

_ Keith [4:06] “Morning Come over Ill make MAC 4 u” _

 

**_Shiro [4:23] “Morning? It’s 4. And I thought you hated it.”_ **

 

_ Keith [4:40] “Totally” _

 

**_Shiro [4:42] “Why make it?”_ **

 

_ Keith [4:50] “Come & Ill show u <3” _

 

**_Shiro [4:51] “Do I really want to know what you are planning?”_ **

 

At times like these, Keith might send a daring photo of his body, before replying offhandedly.

 

_ Keith [4:52] “Nope” _

 

Or even send him a snarky reply.

 

_ Keith [4:52] Im planning 2 test out a new toy I got Its a nice BLACK _

 

**_Shiro [4:52] “You… I’m at work, you can’t…!_ **

 

_ Keith [4:52] I just did HS _

 

**_Shiro [4:53] Fine. I’ll come after class with dessert.”_ **

 

_ Keith [4:53] Takashi Dessert Shirogane _

 

**_Shiro [4:54] You are a menace._ **

 

_ Keith [4:54] “U like it Say hi 2 Hunk 4 me” _

 

It was with feelings of shame mixed with overall happiness that Shiro woke up a morning, two months into this relationship, and stopped in front of his bathroom mirror. He stared at himself, all messed up hair, light stubble and rosy cheeks, and sighed.

 

Right. He was in love wasn’t he?

 

How had he let this happen?

 

At around 9:30 am, on that uneventful day, Keith had not messaged him. It was scratching at the back of Shiro’s brain, but still nothing to really worry about. He knew the youth had spent an all nighter on an important job, so he might have fallen asleep. So Shiro texted him:

 

**_Shiro [9:34] Good morning. Were you able to sleep?_ **

 

And waited.

 

***

 

In a fit or sudden rage, Keith grabbed the huge canvas he was working on, or portrait of a woman with bluish skin, wine red tattoos and white messy hair, and threw it violently across the room. It smacked against the window, paint spraying everywhere.  _ What does that mean “it’s not purple enough”? Blue skin is BLUE SKIN, not PURPLE. URGH!  _ Dumping his brushes and palette on the glass table in the middle of his space made an unusually sharp sound. The entire room went silent, a wave of surprise and worry from his studio mates washed over the young man, before the buzzing of conversation restarted.

 

He HATED about half of his clientele. At times, they were either cheap or had no sense of color, while others didn’t understand what it meant to be an artist, how much work it was. That was mostly annoying, and he had to quickly give up trying to explain the years of dedicated practice that was behind his talent. However, the worst of them, were the ones trying to teach HIM how to do his job. They called 10 times a day, changed their minds at least 20 times during the entire process, asked for too many updates, for photos of the commissioned piece or even to come visit his studio and see it in person. ( _ Just no. His introvert ass was doing well enough alone. _ )

  
The absolute WORST.  _ Uuuuurgh. _

 

Lance stepped into his space, probably worried by the outburst and frowned.

 

\- My dude, you are getting some serious mileage out of that paint, some almost reached my desk. Chill out man.

 

Keith threw himself on the futon, burying his face into the old pillows and whined loudly.

 

\- End me. 

 

Lance sighed, passing a hand through his short brown hair. He rolled his blue eyes heavenwards, as if saying “here’s another artist crisis” and sat down next to Keith, smacking him on his lower back with the back of his hand.

 

\- Get up mullet, you are pathetic. What happened?

 

Keith’s answer was a solid kick to the stomach, making Lance, yelp, cough and bend over in pain.

 

\- That client is ruining my life.

 

\- YOU are ruining my life. I think you got my spleen! Oow...

 

Lance coughed again, his eyes watering. Keith mumbled an apology, somewhat righting himself into a slouch that was far from appealing.

 

\- What ever. Just… Dude, paint what he fucking wants. Cake the entire thing in that ugly color. Who cares?

 

Keith glared at his friend.

 

\- I DO. It’s MY reputation on the line okay. That fucking horror story, I don’t even want it close to my portfolio. If the studio is set on fire by accident, I’ll throw a fucking party. The ugliness of it is transcending the ruined fresco of Jesus okay!

 

Lance cackled, mumbling a “oh yeah, I remember that, true art.”

 

His cellphone chimed, pulling his mind away from his current predicament.  _ Ah fuck, I bet it’s Zarkon… that piece of… urgh... _

 

\- I don’t see the problem. You usually razzle dazzle them with your talent and they like it in the end.

 

Keith ignored the phone, growling his response and kicking his table in frustration.

 

Lance raised both his eyebrows, not commenting more and picked up the phone, throwing it on Keith’s lap.

 

With a sour look permanently engraved into his features, Keith grabbed the device and swiped the screen open. His background photo would have usually improved his bad mood, but there were days when even Shiro’s soft smile didn’t help. Keith hated when people tried to rule his life and this particular client had a special talent to test his capacity to remain calm.

 

He knew about controlling adults.

 

He’d had religious foster parents, negligent ones, violent ones. He remembered wandering hands, indescribable nights holding back the tears and the screams while violated. He knew of fake brothers, snobby sisters, second-rate foster uncles whose names he’d forgotten. Even the older generation’s unpleasant way of raising him had left him with a dislike for peppermint and shoddy basement rooms.

 

Nobody had a say in how he lead his life, especially not ignorant millionaires that considered his work like added benefits to an after school program their own kids never attended. Useless, but necessary to the stupid masses.

 

He sighed, remembering that Shiro had messaged him, but opened the new text message he had just received.

 

He suddenly straightened up, scaring Lance in process, a grin lighting up his face. Pressing the call button, he brought his phone up to his ear with excitement.

 

\- Allie? It’s Keith. You’re back!

 

***

 

Matt’s mind was of the computery kind. He process information in a very methodical way, could catalog feelings, events, sensory stimulation, tasks to do. He even labeled, in his brain cage, the levels at which jobs annoyed him the most ( _ From doing the dishes to coming up with new nicknames for Shiro _ ) Mental organization kept him calm, he understood the world around himself better and could usually pretend like he wasn’t suffering from a very serious mental disorder.

 

That morning hadn’t started too bad, the toothpaste was on the right side of the sink, instead of the left, but the bar of soap was still face up, the logo of some company shining on its surface. 1 out of 2.

 

A good for a bad. He could deal with that.

 

Catalog. Catalog. Catalog.  _ Put the toothpaste on the left. Get out, come back in. See, all good. Perfect. _

 

He grinned, satisfied.

 

To him, the day should have been standard, until his neatly processed information started to get all mixed up by the ever growing presence in the house.

 

His best friend and roommate, Shiro.

 

***

 

Shiro’s texts remained unanswered for the good part of the day. It was unusual, so he became increasingly anxious, fidgety to such a degree even his students noticed, making matters worse. On good days, he did not mind chatter. But today...

 

_ Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter. _

The buzz… the buzz… like bees in his skull.

 

Sticking his finger in his ear, he scratched to make it stop, but it wouldn’t. His head felt like cotton, his heartbeat uneven, his stomach full of angry flies. He might have gone to see the nurse, sleep in her office for an hour, but he did not want her to see him unhinged. He knew she liked him to a certain degree. The natural kindness she emitted, he had a need for it and if she was aware of his real state, she might judge. Even if he never remembered her name. Olly? Maggy? Maybe Mary… something that ended with a E sound. He couldn’t recall.

 

The sudden pang of a headache smacked at the back of his neck. He winced.

_  
_ _ Chatter. Buzz. Buzz. Chatter. Chatter. _

_ Buzz. Buzz. Chatter. Buzz. PANG. Buzz. Buzz. _ __  
  


His students really should learn to be more silent.

 

Shiro pressed the heel of his hand against his right eye, taking a deep breath.

 

Buzz. Buzz.

_ Pang. Pang. PANG.  _

_ BUZZ. BUZZ. _

 

Shiro eyed his phone, willing it to ring. He imagined hearing the jolly jingle, but it remained silent. He picked it up and swiped the screen open. Staring at him, was a lovely photo of Keith covered in paint, grinning, eyes shining, but the blaring text message icon grabbed his attention from the deep sea of his lover’s eyes.

 

No new messages.

 

He still opened the application and stared at his effort to communication, feeling like a child and a stalker all mixed up together.

 

_ Why am I so needy? _

 

**_Shiro [5:41] Keith? Did something happen?_ **

 

He took a deep breath.

 

_ It’s fine Shiro. The day is almost over, and then you can call. _

 

***

 

Matt knew when the darkness creeped slowly in Shiro’s mind. Usually, he was able to tame it, force rest on his friend. They had a term for it “ _ deescalate _ ”, as long as he wasn’t too far gone, it was manageable. Especially when the sickness overwhelmed his mind so slowly.

 

However, when his brain battled with an uncontrolable disorder, he was unable.

 

On such a beautiful sunny day… Matt wasn’t comfortable. He decided he needed a break. Diner at his mother’s should do.

 

It would help.

 

_ It must have been the toothpaste. It had to be. _

 

***

 

By the time he got home, Shiro was far from alright. When he stopped the engine of his car, he finally admitted to himself that he was unraveling. His low self-esteem and the thought that he might lose somebody had been a slow but steady burn of his mental capacities.

 

_ He just… he needed… he had to… _

 

His head was a serious mess.

 

He stepped out of his car, making sure to close the door as softly as possible. His feet felt like weighted anchors as he dragged himself to the front door, unlocking it. Matt’s absence wasn’t surprising, so he ignored the darkness and sat himself in the living room.

 

He found his perfect spot on the couch and took a deep breath. He might be too far gone, reaching a point where it was impossible to stop himself from a panic attack. His psychiatrist had told him, he should let it go, let his body live it.

 

God.

 

He needed to call Keith.

 

_ When I hear his voice, it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. He hasn’t abandoned me. That’s not how he is. Stop thinking like this. You can’t associate Sam’s death with Keith not answering his texts for one day. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Oh god… why am I like this… _

 

This was a problem. He couldn’t get this bad for something so juvenile.

 

He had to solve this alone. But how? How? How? HOW?

 

***

 

Keith’s taxi drive to the bus station had him sitting at the edge of his seat. She was back! Allura was back! He couldn’t WAIT for Shiro to meet her, he was certain they would get along splendidly.

 

After hugs, kisses, more hugs and laughter, they were both driving back home, windows down wind tangling their hair. Keith had been positively VIBRATING since he had learned the news. It probably didn’t help that he hadn't slept at all. (Which she noticed. Of course she did.) He was so happy, so glad to have her back.

 

Allura.

 

His better half, like they called it.

 

His precious older sister.

 

***

 

When Shiro finally realized he had decided to call, the evening was gone. The call was brief. It rang twice, until the line cut.

 

Refused call?

 

Seconds later, Shiro got a short message.

  
  


_ Keith [8:58] Sorry. Not now. _

  
  


Not now?

 

_ Not now? What’s going on? What happened? Did I do something? I must have. I must have. I… I am… I just… gone… he was gone… oh no. No. No no no. _

  
  
  


_ Alone… _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Alone………….. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Alone………………………………... _

 

_ Please someone save me. _

 

***

 

Matt crossed the threshold of his home and knew immediately that something was wrong. It was the entire atmosphere, or the air, or… the fact that it was still dark. Shiro was aware that Matt needed order in his life, so he always sent or left a message when he wasn’t around. However, the red head could sense that there was a presence in his home.

 

Shiro was here.

 

Something was wrong.

 

Dropping his bag besides the door, he took off his shoes, aligning them precisely against the wall. He looked at his watch: 9:02.  _ Catalog.  _ He silently walked to the living room and his eyes locked immediately on the form that was on the sofa, shaking.

 

Oh no.

 

Air. Air air air.

 

Ok. Open the window, act casual.

 

\- Hey Winter Soldier, I’m home.

 

He wandered to the patio door and opened it slightly, letting the cool air of the evening seep in. This close to winter, it was a bit too cold to his taste, but it always helped Shiro.

 

He paused. No response was never a good sign. Especially when Matt when a distasteful joke about Shiro’s prosthetic arm.

 

\- Pidge and mom say that you aren’t visiting enough and should come for lunch with me next time. Chilly? What do you say?

 

The only answer he got was a whimper.

 

_ Shit. _

 

Kneeling down next to the sofa, Matt rested a hand on the cushions, avoiding touching skin as much as he could manage.

 

\- Shiro. What’s going on? Talk to me.

 

His friend’s reply was a loud screech that made him double back and hit the table in the middle of his shoulder blades. He couldn’t help his irises shrinking and the strangling feeling of fear catching his lungs, blocking the airflow.

 

He felt himself move against his will, the last of his conscience drifting to sleep as his self-protection instincts took over. His lips moved, repeating the same words over and over and over, words he could not feel in his throat, or hear.

 

_ Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut up Shut upShutupShut upShutupShutupShutupShut upShutupShutupShutupShutupShutup. _

 

The words rattled and clattered like pots and pans at the bottom of a sink, only to be accompanied by the merry tone of a cellphone vibrating on the table next to him. Noises that didn’t go together, unfillable noises.

 

***

 

Keith put his phone back in his pocket after a quick text to Shiro. A bit short and snappy, he probably would have to apologize for it later. He grimaced.

 

\- And who is THIS?   
  


The question pulled him out of his thoughts.

  
Allura plucked a photo from Keith’s kitchen pin board and stared at the printed out paper, grinning. She puckered her lips and shifted a mischievous gaze towards her brother.

 

\- Is that your  _ boyfriend _ ? I’ve never seen you hang photos of a guy in your apartment before. And very handsome too.

 

She whistled lowly.

 

Keith sighed, taking the photo and putting it back in its place. He couldn’t help but agree, Shiro was good looking, he especially liked tracing his high cheekbones and square jaw, or kissing the length of his neck, tasting the skin. Drawing abs, squeezing his ass, biting at the soft flesh of his upper thigh...  _ Woah Keith, dirty thoughts there, calm down. _

 

The young man’s cheeks flushed and he gave her a crooked smile.

 

\- That’s Shiro. And yah… I guess… I’ve been seeing him for a couple of months now.

 

Allura widened her eyes, leaned against the counter and started twisting her silvery hair between her fingers in excitement.

 

\- MONTHS? I’m impressed Kee, you’ve never been the kind to have long relationships before. Oh, why don’t you call him over. We can have a drink.

 

Keith thought about it for a short moment before he realized he couldn’t just force a meeting on Shiro. It really depended on how his day had gone. They hadn’t talked at all yet, so far in the day and he had had no minutes to spare, unusual.

 

He frowned. He really missed the guy. His smile, his laugh, his voice, he wouldn’t say no to a hug. He hesitated, knowing Shiro might be uncomfortable, but needing his presence, the warmth of his hands around his shoulders.

 

_ Wow, one day and I'm like this huh. I really do like him a lot. _

 

\- I… don’t think that would work. He has a tight schedule and teaches classes tomorrow morning.

 

\- Set up a coffee date. I want to meet him.

 

Her tone was final. Keith sighed.

 

\- Alright alright.

 

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and pushed redial, pressing the device to his ear, eager to hear Shiro’s voice. It rang 4 times until it went dead. Keith blinked, surprised, and pulled back his phone, staring at the screen. Shiro’s photo stared back.

 

Huh, weird.

 

He pressed redial again and this time, the ringing sound stopped after two.

 

\- Oh no…

 

He opened up the text application and typed quickly.

 

_Keith [9:03] Shiro, it’s Keith. Is something wrong? Answer the phone._

 

And waited.

 

\- What’s going on?

 

Allura leaned on his shoulder, staring at the phone. Keith frowned.

 

\- I don’t know. He’s refusing my calls.

 

She scoffed with an unimpressed expression coloring her features.

 

\- That’s rude.

 

Keith shook his head, his brows knitting together in worry. Something must have happened during the day, he knew he had received multiple messages, which he hadn’t been able to answer. Shiro was aware how busy he could get at times, but they had never spent an entire day not texting at all.

 

\- No. You don’t understand. Something is wrong. He wouldn’t do this. Something must have happened!

 

He pressed redial again, biting his lower lip.

 

\- Come on Shiro, pick UP!

 

The ringing sound shut after one ring.

 

\- FUCK!

 

He wanted to throw his phone against a wall, but clenched his fingers around it instead. What could he do? What could he do?

 

\- Okay huhmm… can we maybe drive over?

 

Keith almost whimpered. He was in trouble and did not know what to do. He didn’t even have his roommate’s number. He should have taken more precautions. So many mistakes.

 

\- We can’t. I don’t know his address.

 

Allura gasped, offended.

 

\- What? Months in a relationship and you don’t know where he lives? Keith’s that’s…

 

Keith couldn’t help but glare at her. He was worried, mad, he wanted to snap back at her, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know about Matt.

 

He barely caught himself from screaming before he answered as calmly as he could manage.

 

\- Don’t Allura. You have no idea why that is totally alright. I’ll explain, let me just...

 

He pressed redial again.

 

\- I’m not giving up on you Shiro. Pick up.

 

To his relief, this time the call was answered. He heard heavy breathing on the line and a lower angry grumble.

 

\- Shiro?

 

\- I said SHUT UP!

 

Keith blinked, not recognizing the voice. Someone younger?

 

\- Who’s this? Why are answering Shiro’s phone? ...wait ...is that you Matt?

 

The angry tone of the voice immediately changed into crying. The man on the line replied in between hiccups and sobs wrecking his voice.

 

\- Oh god… please stop calling… the sound… I can’t…

 

Ok Keith. You were able to reach someone. Next step, get an address.

 

\- Matt what’s going on? Tell me. I want to help. I can help.

 

\- Shiro is screaming. Shiro is SCREAMING. I can’t… please make it stop…

 

Matt sobbed at the end of the line.

 

Keith sucked in a breath. Closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. Good news, he actually could not hear Shiro’s screams.

 

Get an address.

 

\- Matt, listen to me. It’s Keith. Shiro’s boyfriend. You need to give me your address. I can’t come over if you don’t give it to me. I KNOW you don’t like people coming in your home, but I want to help. Please.

 

Matt was silent for a long moment. His answer was a whisper, as if he couldn’t dare to believe that help might be coming.

 

\- Keith… Keith? Keith… Shiro is… address?

 

And panic.

 

\- I can’t, I don’t remember. I don’t remember! How do I tell you? I don’t know. Make it stop, please please make it stop. I can’t give it to you Keith. I can’t. I CAN’T.

 

Allura was leaning against his ear, listening to the conversation. She blanched, realizing how dire the situation was.

 

Her blues eyes locked with Keith’s, widening.

 

\- Keith, letters!

 

Keith smiled with relief at the idea. Of course!

 

\- Matt, calm down, are there letters laying around. Can you send me a photo of your address?

 

\- Photo? Letters… I… yes… yes! I see one. Right there. The counter, on the counter. I can do that. I can do that!

 

And the line died. Seconds letter, Keith received a text with the information he was looking for, a cellphone bill with a clear address on the front.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you had a good read. <3
> 
> Kudos and comments are loved!  
> Give me on a shout on tumblr @seiteki9 or on twitter @repeateternity


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But you'll never be alone  
> I'll be with you from dusk till dawn  
> I'll be with you from dusk till dawn  
> Baby, I'm right here  
> I'll hold you when things go wrong  
> I'll be with you from dusk till dawn  
> I'll be with you from dusk till dawn  
> Baby, I'm right here  
> I'll be with you from dusk till dawn  
> Baby, I'm right here
> 
> Dusk till dawn - by Zayn Malik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -screams-
> 
> How am I writing these so fast...? I really don't know.  
> Pretty sure I have just one chapter left. I'm excited. =)

Shiro’s house was about 5 minutes away by car. It was situated in a nice cosy neighborhood with a canopy of trees suited for young families, a lovely location. Peaceful, warm, cosy.

Allura’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as she almost drifter at the next corner, the wheels brushing against the sidewalk with an alarming scratching sound. Keith hadn’t been in any condition to drive, he was an accident waiting to happen, so with much arguing she had convinced him to let her come.

\- They might not let you come in!

He had said to her in a low and worried tone, his knee bouncing. She didn’t understand, she didn’t understand! How could Keith get himself involved with someone so unstable? Was the man deranged? Controlling? Beating both him and his friend?

\- You need to tell me what’s going on Keith. I’ll just… if I don’t consider it safe, I’ll turn around.

\- If you do that, I will jump out the car and run there whether you like it or not.

She sighed. As always, so stubborn.

\- Fine. But explain. That man was screaming on the phone. It was horrifying.

\- I know.

Keith paused and took a deep breath before narrating the tales of horrors and half details he was privy to. How Shiro, Matt and a third unknown man had suffered a terrible accident in a Garrison helicopter. How Shiro had been the pilot and probably (Keith had no confirmation, but it was obvious.) still blamed himself for the death of this person which, to this day, remained nameless.

His boyfriend had lost an arm, had scars all over his body and his roommate was probably the same, this “Matt” Keith had never met. Her brother knew bits and pieces about the roommate, his obsession with order, how he couldn’t stand unplanned visits in his home, or even any visitor at all. Matt was private and had an obsessive compulsive disorder that affected the world around him to such a degree, Shiro was unable to even let Keith know about his address.

Allura couldn’t say she could relate. Her own nature was rigid to some level, but not that obsessive, however she could comprehend mental illnesses.

Keith spelled it out for her clearly, Matt and Shiro had severe cases of PTSD.

She was terrified.

***

Instead of ringing the door or knocking, Matt only had to suffer the low notification chime of a text message on Shiro’s phone.

**_Keith [9:12] We are at the door._ **

Reluctantly, Matt trudged to the door and pulled the curtains open, looking outside. To his horror, two silhouettes at the door were crowding the door. He clenched his teeth.

He nervously walked back to the kitchen and picked the phone up. With trembling fingers he typed a reply.

_Shiro [9:12] WHO   iss wth u?_

**_Keith [9:13] My sister. She drove me here, I couldn’t do it, I was too worried. I am sorry. She can stay outside if you are not comfortable._ **

A soft muffled voice filtered through the door as he looked up. He could see through the curtains a hand pressing against the glass. ~~(~~ _ ~~He was going to have to clean that.)~~ _

\- Please Matt, it’s Keith. We just want to help. Open the door.

He could recognize the voice he had heard on the phone. Keith. Keith?

He dragged himself back to the door, clutching the cellphone against his chest in worry. Slowly reaching out, cursing at his trembling hand, and turned the lock as silently as he could manage. He was relieved that the person on the other side did not try to open the door and rush in, they simply waited.

He swallowed thickly...

...and opened the door grudgingly, only half of it, making sure part of his face was still hidden. ~~_(The half with his scar. Nobody wanted to see his scars. He was_ **_ugly_** _.)_~~ Staring back at him was the young man Shiro had been prattling about. Matt had seen the pictures, an excessive amount of them.

\- ...Keith?

The young man smiled tightly. He was clenching his hands, knuckles white, his shoulders were tense and his eyebrows so tightly knit they almost formed a single line under his dark messy bangs.

\- Yeah, that’s me. Hi Matt, can I come in?

Matt took a deep breath. Keith would take care of Shiro, he could relax. He stepped aside, letting him inside without a second thought. The young man turned his head to the woman beside him and nodded, then stepped in, but she didn’t.

The red head watched him, he took off his shoes with simulated calm and aligned them next to his own very precisely.

_Oh god. Good. Thank you. Thank you._

Without a look back, he stepped further inside, disappearing from view.

Matt stared at the shoes again. Catalog. ( _Dark, leather, worn and loved, neatly placed along the wall.)_ And blinked slowly, feeling a bit more like himself.

Finally, his hand still on the handle of the front door, he turned back towards the presence that was invading his porch. A tall Goddess all poise and elegance, her skintone a flawless half and half coffee hue with flowing silver hair _(the milky way…)_ and piercing blue eyes. She smiled softly at him, but he could see the stretched lines of worry on her face, how her brows bunched up, how her jaw locked, how her smile seemed a tad on the unnatural side. She was nervous, worried, clearly out of her comfort zone.

\- Good evening Matthew. My name is Allura.

Could he manage another unknown presence in the house? _~~(A very beautiful presence…)~~ _ He didn’t know. He pressed himself against the wall, hiding further behind the door.

\- Good evening… I’m… sorry. I…

He looked back at the living room with worry when he heard uncommon sounds. People walking? Right, he didn’t have to worry about Shiro. His friend was in good hands.

And back at Allura.

\- Please don’t apologize.

Her voice was soft, just a whisper. Matt thought some more, his fast processing mind filing information at mach speed. He concluded that he couldn’t let a lady stay out in the cold, so he stepped aside. It really was freezing. Winter. It was winter, he remembered this.

She nodded.

\- Thank you, that is very gracious of you.

Before stepping inside slowly, eyeing the shoes before taking off her own with a frown and lining them up just as neatly. Finally straightening up, the corner of her mouth tugged up, a dimple appearing at its corner. He wanted to poke it. Catalog.

_A visitor. A lovely visitor._

Right, he could play host. He knew how to do this. He took her coat and made note, while he hung it, of how the pink dress covering her pleasing silhouette was so complimenting to her skin tone.

\- Can I offer you anything to drink?  
  
\- I'm fine, please... come sit with me.

Leading her into the living room, Matt stared towards Shiro's room. Words filtered out _« It's me babe... I'm here... you're fine... I've got you. I've got you. »_ Sighing again, he walked to the sofa, sitting down, exhausted.

Allura followed silently, dropping next to him with calculated grace.

  
\- Can I do anything to help you right now?  
  
\- It's alright... it’s not something you can DO anything about. It’s all here.

He tapped his temple slowly, barely managing to look into her eyes. She must have noticed his scars by now. He really had to face this about himself. The ugly side.

\- I see, but I was speaking of your comfort. Not matter, you can think about it.

She paused for half a second.

\- I know it doesn't solve nor help anything but... I'm really sorry about what happened to both of you. The trauma seems to be extensive, both inside and out.  
  
Pressing a hand on her eye, visibly saddened, she cocked her head to the side. _~~(Everybody alway fucking mentions it. The ugliness.)~~ _ Matt couldn’t help but do the same to his own face, digging his fingers around the scared flesh in shame.  
  
\- It's fine. I've come to terms with being a war victim. The scars don't do it for me, but I'm alright with being ugly.

She frowned.

  
\- You are not ugly.

He scoffed in reply, his laugh half amused, half indignant, his hand dropping back on his lap.

  
\- Well princess, I am far uglier than you are.

She eyed him. Her gaze was analytical, intelligent, she seemed to understand more than she let on.

\- Keith talked to me about you. He said... you teach at the Garrison with Shiro. I just now realized, I've actually heard about you before, the Genius Matthew Holt. You were set for the Kerberos mission with two others, I was following it. I never knew why they sent other people instead of you. I guess I understand now.

Aah, yes the Kerberos mission. In another lifetime, he had been meant for the stars, to go further than any other human had gone before. See multi colored moons and record the effects of radiation, life or any other given abnormalities on an icy globe. A nice dream.

  
\- I'm blind in one eye, Shiro lost his arm and my father is dead. That is what happened. A scientist can't be missing an eye and a pilot can't be missing an arm, and a dead man is no use to anybody. It's not how it's done. Life is like that, it shows you beautiful things and then, takes it away.  
  
He smiled sadly.  
  
\- So, when are you leaving princess?

Some days, he missed the idea of being an astronaut. He had spent so much time learning, calculating, recounting all over again, that when they had all taken it away, he had felt empty. He was aware that his need to record every detail of his life was partly because of it. If he filed information away, he could let it go. Leave the gory details in stacked boxes, leave them to the spiders and mites.

This encounter was the same. So, in his mind, next to a wobbling series of bookcases about all his past crushes ~~_(Anna, Debbie, Monika, Sarah, Suzie and Tetra.)_~~ , he installed a corner table with a small pink box _(Like her dress)_ and tagged it “ _Allura_ ” in silver letters. She deserved a lovely spot in his brain cage, far away from the messy details.

He would store her there. He smiled to himself, satisfied.

  
\- I’m… not leaving. But, may I ask why you call me princess?

\- You are beautiful enough to be one and I have a thing for nicknames, it makes me look less serious about things. So I can say horrible facts and smooth it over with banter. It works well, especially on Shiro.  
  
He was happy that the noise had quieted down. He could still hear whispering in the next room, but nothing he couldn’t manage. His mind was back with its antics, catalog, catalog, catalog. Something he understood well.

  
\- I see. Defense mechanism. Interesting. Well, I am sorry to tell you that I am not a princess at all and if you had hoped it would make me run away, you're going to be very disappointed. I'm actually just a would be flight attendant that gets upset with clients. My bosses are quite unhappy with me.

He closed his eyes, willing his brain to not start imagining the lovely lady as a flight attendant.

  
\- Heh, I would have liked to have you on that helicopter ride Snowflake. It would have improved the scenery. Maybe I wouldn’t have noticed the storm as much.  
  
She chuckled, her body language relaxing a bit.

\- Snowflake now, really.

He forced a smirk on, appreciating the soft sound of her voice and the heat her body emitted. It was a soft glow lighting his way in the dark. A calming presence. A fluffy blanket on a snowy Christmas night.

  
\- Getting attached to me because of nicknames now? We will be the Beauty and the Beast. Tale as old as…

He stared down at his watch.

\- ...about 10 minutes.

She laughed some more, patting his hand lightly while shaking her head.

  
\- You're not a beast, you just have a little more history than most.

He frowned. Huh… he had never pictured it that way. How interesting.

  
\- That's... a really nice way to put it Honey bunny.  
  
She laughed.

\- Only the truth.

He stared at her polished nails as she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to muffle the sound. Catalog. _(1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Nails done that same morning. Soft pink, at least 3 layers.)_

He closed his eyes for a short moment, his body felt heavy and his mind stretched. He sighed.

  
\- I'm really tired... d’you mind if I sleep?

His words were slurred as he felt his body starting to give up, the exhaustion grabbing him by the spine and pulling him down.

She reached out with a cautious hand, slow enough that he could stop her. He didn’t. Soft fingers touched his shoulder, holding him steady. Strange, he hadn’t even noticed his body shifting to one side.

  
\- Shall I walk you to your room?  
  
\- Nah... here s’fine. Besides, I can't leave visitors alone in m’house.

She giggled, her grip tightening on his shoulder.

  
\- But you'll sleep.  
  
\- Yeah well... we can't all be perfect Sweet Pea...

Her hand glided along his back, anchoring itself on his other shoulder, pulling him close. He felt warmth cradling his head, pushing softly so that he would lay his head on her shoulder.

  
\- Alright, I'll even lend you my shoulder. How's that sound?  
  
\- Don't let my ugliness rub off on you Princess...  
  
He let himself being taken care of. It was strangely peaceful, the way she was just present, not crowding, not overbearing, just… there.  
  
\- The only thing ugly about you is the aberrant way you use those nicknames on me. I swear, I might cry out in horror.  
  
\- Ah... so you hate it too huh?

She patted his head softly, leaning hers on top.

  
\- That's not it. Sleep handsome, you need rest.

He laughed tiredly.

  
\- Who said y’could use nicknames on me...?

Gentle fingers scratched his scalp, encourage sleep to pull him deeper… deeper… deeper...

  
\- I did.  
  
\- Huh... y’got guts Princess... battling against the once... great... Matthew Holt. You will lose...

So tired.

  
\- You are still great, and I’ve already won.

The soothing sound of her voice was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

***

Head on Keith’s lap, nose pressed against his stomach, Shiro took a deep breath. He was so tired with this… always having attacks. Always being a burden to Matt, to Keith, to his job, his students. He wasn’t getting better. His doctors said he should be getting better if he followed the steps. He thought he was.

Was he?

\- You really should sleep Hot stuff.

Keith brushed his hair back, caressing the shell of his ear softly. Looking up, Shiro could see how sad and worried he was, how he wanted him to be better.

Aah… he couldn’t deal with this.

Closing his eyes, Shiro groaned.

\- I’m not tired. My brain is still running…

Sighing, the young man laid down on the bed. He grabbed Shiro’s hands as the older man whined at the loss of his pillow. Shiro couldn’t look at him, so he stared down.

\- Shiro.

Hesitating, he looked up.

\- Are you up for a talk then?

Shiro gulped. A talk? That was never good, wasn’t it? He felt nervosity burn his entire body, his fingers tensing under his lover’s grip.

\- ...about what...?

Keith didn’t complain, he just brushed his fingers against Shiro’s lovingly.

\- What just happened.

Oh, so it wasn’t nervosity. It was shame and deep sorrow. Despair for things that would be lost, mortification at how unfit of a human being he had become. And heartache.

Keith was going to leave him. Shiro felt his heart clench. He wasn’t ready to be dumped.

His answer was a whisper, his voice a broken record.

\- ...I’m sorry.

Keith leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Shiro’s.

\- Babe, don’t apologize. You have an illness, we can deal with that. What I can’t deal with, is that you aren’t taking the steps to make yourself better. This thing that you do, it needs to stop.

It hurt. It hurt. His heart was beating like a jackhammer, trying to pierce out of his chest. An early suicide, if he died now, he wouldn’t have to hear the words. Words he’d heard before, words he’d even said before. Only now did he understand how much he couldn’t bare to live without Keith.

\- Don’t... Please... don’t. ...don’t leave...

Pressing his forehead deeper against Keith’s, he sobbed silently.

\- Baby, I’m not leaving. You just... I want you to understand. You think you can battle this thing by yourself, like it’s a burden to everybody around you. It’s not. You are certain we are all going to leave you. We won’t. We all love you, we want you to be happy you know? I want to be with you. I really do.

Tears were clouding his eyes when he stared back at the young man.

\- You love me?

\- Yeah, I do.

Shiro couldn’t help the blush rising on his cheeks. He felt his ears burn, his fingers twitched and his entire body just wanted to get closer to Keith.

What. No. It must be a lie.

\- You want to be with me…

His tone was full of disbelief.

\- ‘Till death do us part as they say.

_Oh god. Maybe not a lie afterall._

Shiro’s reaction was a garbled set of indecipherable words, as he hid his face with his hands. He knew he must have turned crimson and Keith’s laughter was the confirmation of it.

\- Okay big guy, tonight I get to be the big spoon and tomorrow we are going to talk more and work at making your life better. How does that sound?

Shiro nodded, letting himself be cared for. Blankets were pulled on top of him and the young man fluffled his pillow before laying his head right beside his. He felt his nose rest against the back of his neck and warm breath tickling his skin.

_Forever may not be long enough for my love_

_I have a will but I'm lost inside your time_

_If you could, would you come with me to the other side?_

\- Keith?

_Forever may not be long enough for you to know_

_Just how far I'd travel, just how far I would go_

_Open your heart and everything will be alright_

_Open your heart, baby, leave with me_

The beautiful, perfect, young man answered with a low hum that resonated against his neck.

\- I love you too…

_Forever may not be long enough for our love_

_Forever! Forever! Forever!_

His lips were light, when they kissed him. Light as a feather. Light like his body, as he floated… floated… floated into this new found euphoria.

_He loves me._

_Forever! Forever! Forever!_

_Forever!_

***

  
Allura woke up hours later, her neck stiff and entire body frozen. She looked towards the window, noticing how light was peaking above the neighboring house.

_What time is it?_

She heard steps before she saw him, her younger brother. A young man she had known all her life, adopted by her parents at an incredibly young age. First her mother died, and they were crying. Then, her father died and they were running.

One house, then another, then another… one fake parent… then another… then another… until she was old enough to take him in. Then they were happy.

She looked up at him as he put a heavy blanket on top of her and the young man glued to her side.

He smiled.

\- Goodnight Allie.

He kissed her head.

She smiled.

\- Good night Kee.

And slept some more.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my lovelies.  
> Kudos and comments are loved. <3
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr @seiteki9 or on twitter @repeateternity.  
> Don't hesitatet to say hi. =D


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and they lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER -confetti-
> 
> Oh gosh, I am done with this. It was such a hard and fun journey.  
> Thank you so much to all who are still reading. It was such a pleasure to share this story with you.
> 
> Also, many thanks to Saasan (or Decidedly Sarah) for the help of the last part. Without you that simple paragraph would have been so much less. <3
> 
> Have a good read my darlings. <3

**Steps to happiness:**

 

**Step 1** \- Accept the truth: PTSD is  _ manageable _ not curable - ✔  **DONE**

 

**Step 2 -** Move out of the house, stop living with Matt. Find a small home in a quiet neighborhood, far from traffic, be it on the roads or airplanes. (Have Keith move in?) **-** ✔  **DONE (...technically not official yet  =( )**

 

**Step 3 -** Hang a reminder by the front door listing all items to be carried out to help control all kinds of panic attacks.  **-** ✔  **DONE**

 

**Step 4 -** Get a (big) dog (Call it something “spacy”) **-** ✔  **DONE**

 

**Step 5 -** Marry Keith… maybe… if he wants to… 

 

**Step 6 -** Live happily ever after?

 

***

 

On Sunday mornings Shiro always felt the strongest, a mighty warrior fighting all evils of the world. He would wake up later, often to the smell of coffee and breakfast, sometimes, with a kiss on the cheek (or huhm… below the belt...) or with the sound of chatting in his home.The soft music of laughter and a deep warm voice he adored. 

 

He venerated Sunday mornings.

 

\- ...what do you think buddy? Yah? He’s lazy so… make sure to lick his face real good. Come on, go go. Wake him up!

 

The sound of pit patting on the hardwood floors resonated in the corridors as his precious guardian cautiously trotted to his room. The weight of his nose pressed in his hand and the swipe of a large tongue wet his fingers. 

 

Shiro growled and laughed. This was true happiness.

 

\- Kosmo… stop…

 

The dog licked some more, climbing on the bed and pressing his body against his master’s larger frame. Kosmo was warm and had long thick fur Shiro loved to twist his fingers in. The steady lines of black and blue (apparently it wasn’t blue, but gray… but who cared) across his face made him look more like a wolf than a dog, and his huge size scared most people. However, Kosmo was expertly trained and incredibly cuddly. Shiro loved him to death.

 

The dog whined softly, sniffing around Shiro’s face.

 

\- Yes yes, I’m awake. I’m ok.

 

Shiro sat up, stopping his feet from touching the ground.

 

\- Slippers?

 

Jumping down the bed at the request, Kosmo pushed fluffy black slippers next to the bed at the same place he always did in the morning. His gaze, full of intelligence, locked on Shiro’s feet as he slid his toes in, making sure his master’s feet weren’t touching the floor. When that was done, he lolled his tongue out and sat down, satisfied. His tail wagged slowly across the floor as he cocked his head to the side, waiting patiently.

 

Extending a hand, Shiro scratched him behind the ears and grinned.

 

\- Thanks buddy. Go.

 

The dog yipped happily and skittered out of the room, probably hoping for treats of some kind from Keith.

 

After a quick trip to the bathroom and brush of his hair and teeth, Shiro made his way to the kitchen, only to find Keith carrying the dog around. He was dwarfed by the sheer size of the beast as he walked to the backyard door, toeing it open.

 

\- Come on boy, go have a run.

 

Shiro laughed, as Keith threw the dog outside, peering in the fridge for some breakfast.

 

Keith was back in the kitchen after a short moment and sat on the counter close to Shiro, grabbing some toast he had left there.

 

\- Keith, don't sit on there. You know I hate when you do.

 

Straightening up, Shiro kissed the young man on the forehead and on the lips softly. As always, Keith was gorgeous without even trying, his curly black hair framing his face perfectly, his skin glowing under the morning sun, his eyes a deep shade of blues and violets and his lips… ah… his lips...

 

Keith kissed him again softly.

 

\- I know.

 

Shiro brushed his cheekbones softly, scratching the remnants of red and green paint left on his skin.  _ He must have spent the entire night working again.  _ He registered the bags under his lover’s eyes.  _ Definitely spent the night awake. _

 

\- Is that how it’s going to be today?

 

Keith crossed his legs without a care in the world, almost taunting. (Almost... No, he probably was.)

 

\- Yes. <3

 

And took another bite of his toast. Shiro shook his head, amused by the fun the young man was having at his expense.

 

\- Are we starting this day with me being annoyed with you?

 

\- Yep.

 

Shiro snorted.

 

\- What are you 6? Should I report this to higher command?

 

\- Tough luck, you can’t tell my parents, they’re dead.

 

Shiro gasped in (fake) horror.

 

\- You’re horrible. Don’t use your parents like that.

 

Keith laughed.

 

\- Tough luuuck. <3

 

Shiro took a pan out of the cabinets, cracking some eggs in it and dropping in a few breakfast sausages. He smirked while pushing his food around, enjoying the banter.

 

Every morning they spent like this together was a gift. Keith enjoyed the chats they had, he especially liked to make Shiro shy or bothered and the older man treasured every moment. They hadn’t really moved in together, Keith was just around all the time. He had drawers for his clothes in the bedroom dresser, space in the closets, stored some materials in a room he often used to paint, but he hadn’t moved in. He paid half the groceries, walked Kosmo everyday and always called in “I’m home!” when he crossed the door with a set of his own keys, but his name wasn’t on the lease.

 

They hadn’t moved in together. Keith still had his old apartment, his studio… but he was always around. Close.

 

Usually, it should have been a normal Sunday morning, going to the grocery store, exploring the neighborhood with his dog in toe, drinking a beer in the backyard while listening to bad oldies music, chatting. A regular day.

 

However, on this uneventful morning, Keith had other ideas.

 

\- Hey Hot Stuff, come here. I have something for you.

 

After dropping his dishes in the sink, Shiro turned around and approached Keith who still sat on the kitchen counter  _ (That pest…) _ . He wedged his body between the young man’s legs, grabbing his small waist and grinned.

 

\- What’s up?

 

\- Here.

 

Giving him a small velvety box, the youth looked away, a strange gesture for someone usually so bold. Was he being shy?

 

Shiro stared at the box.

 

_ Is that a jewelry box? _

 

Keith wasn’t the kind to offer a change of their relationship. He had never stated the obvious, had never asked for a key to the house. He just lived how he liked without pushing Shiro’s boundaries.

 

Shiro giggled nervously.

 

\- I… what?

 

Sighing, Keith turned his gaze back to Shiro’s face, his own cheeks a deep shade of red.  _ Huh? _ Then scratched the tip of his nose and pouted.

 

\- You know I’m not romantic... and not into sentences with extravagant words or whatever... but... yeah…

 

_ Can’t be a jewelry box. Don’t be stupid Shiro. _

 

Shiro smiled indulgently at the young man.

 

\- You do know that the word extravagant is extravagant by itself right?

 

\- Shut up, I’m trying to ask you to marry me you dork.

 

_ Oh. It WAS a jewelry box. _

 

_ Oh... _

 

**_OH._ **

 

Opening the box slowly, Shiro gasped. Inside of it was a gorgeous black metallic band adorned with three purple stones that stared playfully at him. THREE. It looked expensive. Really expensive.

 

\- Keith…

 

_ Oh no… oh yes…  _ **_OH GOD._ **

 

\- Yeah?

 

\- This is too much.

 

The young man chuckled anxiously, taking Shiro’s hands in his own. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, his voice a whisper.

 

\- It really isn’t Babe.

 

Pausing, the young man waited, his cheek still flushed. Shiro kept ogling the ring at a loss for words.

 

Keith wasn’t patient, so he pressed for answers half a minute later when he noticed how Shiro remained frozen.

 

\- So will you? Yes? No? Only will devout yourself to God?

 

Shiro lifted his head, his eyes locking with Keith’s.  _ So close. _ He saw the mixture of feelings mirroring his own, nervosity, fear, passion, love and so much more. He’d learned in the last year and a half how similar they both were, discarded by society, unloved, damaged. He knew they understood each other and he couldn’t ask for more out of life.

 

\- I’d be stupid to say no.

 

\- That’s not an answer.

 

\- Well it wasn’t a very clear question.

 

Keith pinched his cheeks, and deadpanned.

 

\- Will you bound your life to mine so that I can torture you for every fucking second of your natural LIFE, then afterlife since I am getting angry at you for forcing me to spell it out because you think it’s lots of FUN to make me blush all the way to my toenails?

 

Shiro’s answer was, first, a pleased grin.

 

\- I’d love nothing more.

 

Keith almost threw himself at him, locking his arms around his strong neck and claiming his mouth like a starving man. In between kisses, bites and confessions of love, Shiro savored the body of his lover.

 

Shiro’s heart was beating like a drum as he pulled and pushed against the young man, finally winning out by kneeling down and taking him in hand. His mouth watered as he sucked at the tip of his dick and finally swallowed him whole. The weight on his tongue had him moan, his own body responding so readily the simple brush of the fabric of his pants made his breath hitch.

 

He bobbed his head slowly, enjoying the taste of precum at the back of his throat, the feel of hair against his nose when he bottomed out, bliss. His eyes fluttered shut as he fully enjoyed the taunting of muscles against his jaw, the slow move of hips and the pleasing gasps escaping Keith’s lips.

 

Aah… Sunday mornings… Sunday mornings… How he loved Sunday mornings…

 

In between pants, Keith caressed Shiro’s jaw and dug his fingers in his hair, pulling gently.

 

\- Aaah… so warm... well if I would have known that this... would be your reaction… oh please… come on babe… deeper...

 

The young man moaned loudly.

 

\- ...I would have gotten you a cock-ring instead...

 

Shiro almost strangled himself at the words, his lips making a obscene popping sound as he pulled off. He stared up, unimpressed, possibly a bit angry.

 

\- Really Keith?  _ Really?? _

 

His voice was raspy, ruined by the exercise. He wiped his mouth and jawline with the back of his hand, still tasting the saltiness on his reddened lips.

 

Keith chuckled, seeming totally unbothered by the fact that he had stopped. His voice still betrayed him however, sounding needy, breathless and horny.

 

\- Oh yeah... I remember... you DO like black right?

 

And he grinned.

 

_ That PEST. _

 

\- Alright, I think we’ve had enough of that joke for the rest of our lives.   
  


Shiro stood up, taking in the look of his boyfriend, as he was still laughing out loud, his crotch still lewdly displayed, red, shining with Shiro’s spit. He looked like a snack, a buffet, a full course meal and Shiro was STARVING.   
  


\- Wow that’s a long time. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold off Hot Stuff.

 

_ URGH! _

 

Picking Keith up, Shiro tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and clasped his prosthetic hand on his ass. He squeezed strongly, making Keith groan loudly.   
  


\- You are punished for the rest of the day young man.

 

Another laugh. Shiro growled.

 

\- Yes daddy, but… oh no, what am I going to do? Please go hard on me. <3

 

And once again.

 

His manhood was digging in Shiro’s shoulder. He was aware that the young man was just playing, but how FRUSTRATING.

 

So, his only reply was a loud disapproving growl, which made Keith slap his ass.

 

Shiro yelped as he crossed the threshold of their bedroom. He threw Keith on the bed.

 

\- Hands off the merchandise you pest! And don’t call me daddy!

 

\- At least I’m still a pest. <3

 

On Sunday mornings Shiro always felt the strongest, a mighty warrior fighting all evils of the world… or maybe more like a locked up princess being rescued by a handsome prince. It was hard to tell, especially when Keith pushed him against the blankets of their bed so forcefully.

 

\- I love you babe, be mine forever.

 

\- I will. I am. Forever.

 

Ah bless... Bless... Bless Sunday mornings… <3

 

***

 

The crowd went silent as Shiro opened his mouth, taking in a deep breath while closing his eyes. Thinking better of it, he clasped it shut, feeling his body shake, nervousness clawing at his throat. Warm fingers squeezed his own, the scent of spices filling his nostrils as his heartbeat steadily slowed down.

 

Shiro wished he was ready. He furrowed his brows, clutching the fabric of his partner’s white gloves between his fingers, and remembered all the moments they shared, how they had met, how Keith had accepted him fully without ever blaming him for anything.

 

But still, he wondered...

 

Regardless of someone’s choices, would could ever be ready for the first day of the rest of their life?

 

Nobody. Right?

 

Shiro even less.

 

Who was ever ready? Ready for what? For who?

 

Surely for the leap of faith he was about to take.

 

Mentally taking a step back, Shiro exhaled slowly and opened his mouth again. Words spilled as he ignored his stutter. His feelings sprinted and he jumped unsteadily over the ocean of his insecurities. Finally diving, he found a small opening where the world was a little bit kinder.

 

A place where Keith had opened his heart to him.

 

**Ready?**

 

**Set.**

 

_ On this day, as we celebrate our wedding, I have a few words to share, a few wishes to make, and innumerable promises to uphold. _

 

_ Even today, I remember how we first met with warmth in my heart and thank all deities on Earth for this second chance I got at being truly happy. _

 

_ Keith, I wish I could promise you the world, but the world isn’t mine to give. What I can give you is myself body and soul with no expectations. I promise to lay my heart in the palm of your hands, to love and to hold, to protect and to keep. I promise to be vulnerable with you as you have been with me, and I promise to honor and cherish your heart in return.   _

 

_ I wish I could promise you forever, but the future isn’t something I can control. What I can promise is to give you every second of this life I’ve been blessed with, and to spend them feeding our love so that it burns strong even after our time on this Earth is over, as forever could never be enough time with you. _

 

_ I can not even promise that I’ll never hurt you, since I am flawed and broken and filled with sharp edges. What I do promise is to always abandon my pride and reach out to you, to hold you, to seek forgiveness, and to always offer the same in return. _

 

_ You are my every reason. My reason then, my reason now, my reason every day, every second in every way. You are my support, my passion and my compassion. You are my light, my impossible dreams, and you have given me a love so pure and so deep that I can not breathe without you by my side. _

 

_ Here and now I pledge my life to yours and I promise that no matter where life leads me, it will lead me there with you, because as long as you are with me, then that is where I am meant to be. _

  
  


**GO!**

  
  
  


 

THE END <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about this fic:  
> \- Did Lance really ask Hunk in marriage? He did. Did Hunk say yes? He DID. They actually get along very well and Hunk puts it like this: "He just sort of started hanging around the bakery all the time and now, I wouldn't change it for the world." Will they get really married? Oh yeah. XD  
> \- What about Matt and Allura? They become very good friends, but Matt has a hard time coming to terms with his scars. He doesn't think Allura could care for him, but she really does. It takes years, but they eventually move it together.
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos are loved.
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr @seiteki9 or on Twitter @repeateternity
> 
>  
> 
> And again, thank you so much for reading. <3


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